An important message from your cat

An important message from your cat

[This week, Tim Jones turns the keys to his blog over to Tuxedo, a 23-pound spokescat representing the views of household cats everywhere.]

Cat - Tuxedo the catHey, owner. This is your cat. There appears to be a little confusion as to just exactly who’s in charge here. I know, I know. You pay the electric bill, pay the insurance (whatever that is), and you buy all the food. That does not make you king of my castle. I’m afraid I’m going to have to go over the ground rules one more time if I’m going to allow you to stay here.

I think we can both agree that I am pretty low maintenance. Heck, I sleep 20 hours a day, so the least you can do during the other four hours is drop what you’re doing and pay full attention to me – starting with my meals. I have to say a monotonous diet of Meow Mix day after day is not exactly my idea of haute cuisine. And what’s with the dry food pellets? Do I look like a rabbit? Please have your chef start preparing more interesting entrées for me. Might I suggest steak tartare or perhaps Lobster Newburg?

While we’re on the subject of dining preferences, need I remind you that the toilet is mine? Its primary function, we both know, is as the receptacle for my drinking water. I’m willing to let you share, but for God’s sake please make sure little Princess Sarah remembers to flush after she tinkles. It’s gross. You don’t see me taking a pee in her sippy cup, do you?

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Searching for a way to turn off my brain

Searching for a way to turn off my brain

So here’s the thing. Sometimes I just can’t seem to turn off my brain. It’s always racing, bouncing from one random thought to the next, making it impossible for me to totally relax.   

Oh, sure, I’ve tried various ways to relax and mentally shut down. I’ve tried yoga and tennis and pretending to listen to my wife. But still my mind darts around to other thoughts. Some people have speculated that I may suffer from A.D.D. and yet, I suddenly have a serious craving for pancakes. 

Once I even tried hypnotherapy, in an attempt to clear my mind. The hypnotherapist soothingly invited me to close my eyes and envision a cool, gentle breeze on a mild summer day. He said to imagine I was in a lush field of tall grass with yellow dandelions. And all I could think about was how I needed to mow my lawn and pull up weeds. While I was at it, I might as well prune the bushes and power wash the patio. There went my Saturday. I left the session totally stressed out. 

So, I decided to try massage. I’d be able to close my eyes and listen to soft music, maybe even some wind chimes, while a professional masseur melted all my aches and cares away. Sounded perfect. Well, things didn’t go quite as I had hoped. Here’s a recap of what went on in my mind as he worked on my back, arms, legs and hands for sixty minutes.

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