I eat first.

I eat first.
I was the first one here.
I am the prettiest (handsomist.)
Furriest.
Best purr.
Smartest.
Bestest.
I. Eat. First.
Sorry Ginger - you have to wait.
My dish gets put on the floor 1st. I don't care if it is only one second before yours.
I eat first.
When we get treats, Mom puts her hand in front of me, THEN you!
Today Mom tried to feed you first and she just thinks it's hilarious.
HEY EVERYONE! For the record...
I EAT FIRST!

Snow!!

What's this? I love it! Oh wait, this is cold and wet on my paws!
Mommy! Look at this! It's cold and wet on my paws!
Ha! It crunches under my feet!
I LOVE THIS!
(tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp)



Aw yes, I'll just hang out under this roof!
Wait? I have to walk on it again to get inside?
What? That stuff is freezing!
I'll just sit here until it's gone.
Mom! What are you doing? Leave me alone!
No! Don't pick me up! I like it out here!
MICHI! Look! It's cool out here! Come out and play with me!
You're so grumpy...

Thanksgiving Blues

She thinks she's tricking us, but as soon as she puts out the industrial size food bowl, I know what's coming. Bitch is leaving town. She has no idea how annoying Ginger is when I have to handle her all by myself. So she empties an entire bag of Iams food (my personal favorite), cleans the water bowl, and is sickeningly nice to us. I've seen this act a million times, but you know what they say - when that cats away... oh wait - that doesn't really apply here.

So basically my Thanksgiving consisted of beating up on the Orange One, shedding, tracking litter throughout the house (yes, I track it on the bathroom floor on purpose) and generally having my run of the place.

When the girl gets back, I always pretend to be real sweet, purring and nuzzling, but I know that it's going to get me some Mixed Grill Feast, and man i LOVE that stuff.

Clean the litter box

Hi this is Ginger here, and I am writing to ask my Mom to PLEASE clean out the litter box. I am trying very hard to be understanding, but unfortunately I've been about as passive-aggressive as I can be without going for a full on spraying.
I thought that me just pooping right in front of the box would send the message. But alas, no. Then I thought if I tore up the carpet in front of the litter box, as I was trying to cover my poop with the non-existent litter that THAT would work. But no.
She's got until mid-night tonight, and then I'm going rogue...