60 inches of Fun

Meet Cleo, my cat.

Cleo- precious? kinda. pain in the ass? definitely

Cleo- precious? kinda. pain in the ass? definitely

I got Cleo from a friend about 6 years ago, and she’s been a prominent member of this house hold since day one. Do NOT let her innocence fool you, this cat is a DIVA. SUPREME.

$100 Cat Condo with Scratch Pad? Might as well have handed her a biscuit sprinkled with poo.

Bowl full of $3 a can cat food? Nope, it sat for 15 minutes before she got to it, it’s no longer fresh, take this away, wench.

Nice clean water bowl? “OMG how dare you ask me to drink this!” Washing your hands in the sink? A blur of fur pushes you out of the way to get the fresh clean water running from the tap.

Oh, I’m sorry, is this your bowl of cereal I insist on drinking milk out of while you’re mid-bite of those Frosted Flakes?

I think you get my drift. And this cat will NOT play with cat toys. Instead, she will sit under the car or on the roof and taunt dogs, chase squirrels, and bring me dead things. (That’s a lie, one time, the baby chipmunk wasn’t dead and ended up in my pants. Oh yeah, that’s another blog.) However, you have a piece of string or anything that dangles, this cat is on crack!

So, the other day I took out a cheap plastic measuring tape out of the drawer to… well, measure something. I made a very simple, and easy mistake to make. I let the tape hit the floor.

Within seconds, there was a gigantic ball of fur pummeling towards me with a look on her face that only LOLcats can achieve. I quickly yanked the measuring tape up and this cat WENT. FLYING. She lunged herself at the end of the measuring tape, clung on, did an Indiana Jones swing on it, yanked it out of my hand, and ferociously started mauling the poor thing upon impact with the floor.

Needless to say, my measuring did not get done, but I “played” with the cat for a full hour with this thing. She was not giving in easy. So finally I gave in, dragged the tape into the living room, Cleo belly crawling along with me, and sat down at the computer to go about my business.

It’s been 3 days, and she still has that damn measuring tape. Maybe she’ll move on to something new.

Maybe, I should just shut up.


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May 2009
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