Aliens!

Recently the cat has been allowed outside the house.  I find this to be terribly unfair.  He gets to poop in litter boxes and probably gets to roll in it too.  If I so much as look in the direction of the litter boxes when we go through the mud room on our way outside, I get hollered at and my basset derriere gets a gentle nudge from daddy's boot.  He also gets to poop outside.  I am only allowed to poop outside.  And he is such a fast little twerp!  I try to chase him and keep him from getting away but he can squeeze through small spaces because he is a cat, and cats are all little and weak and stupid.

But that is not the point of this blog.  Today we saw aliens!  They were up on the hill, where we are not allowed to go.  And they are weird-looking aliens too, not the big-headed kind.  These aliens walked on four feet and one of them had horns on its head.  I watched them at first and then when I saw them move towards the house I started barking like crazy to make sure mama and daddy could come out and fight them.  Or maybe sacrifice a cat or two in hopes they (the aliens) would go away (and take the cats with them).

Well daddy eventually came out, and here is what happened...

So I think daddy has been brainwashed by the aliens.  Who calls aliens 'dear'?  They have come to eat our brains or something they are not dears!  And obviously they are worth points but I think a weird alien with horns is worth more than 4 points!  I will have to watch him closely to make sure he doesn't try and make me into an alien hound slave.

Stupid TV Commercial Sunday #37

This blog has been really dog-heavy lately.  We cats have been laying low, except for Nibbler, who is trying to win an award for most aggravating cat or something.  But my weekly Stupid TV Commercial antennae perked up the other day when this little gem showed up on TV.

Her colon looks really healthy to me

Yet again, human bathroom subject matter has come up on TV.  These people don't seem to be bothered by this woman hijacking a wedding to talk about her stupid colon medicine.  Shut up!  Let's get to the cake already!  I'll cleanse my colon the normal way, by eating some food and running around the house until I need to make a break for the litter box!

Sheesh!

Stupid TV Commercial # 31

Boy, this week's commercial is dumb. It's trying to get you to sign up for Dish TV service. Now at first that sounded alright to me, because dishes sometimes have moist food on them or milk in them. TV and a nice snack would be alright - but I guess it has more to do with the dish they put on top of your house to get the signal for the TV. We have one of those in our yard but we have DirecTV instead. Anyway, this Dish commercial has something to do with cowboys and dumb hats - the link between that and television provider service is lost on me.

Now I am not much for worrying about who provides what in this house, except for litter box service and food detail. But I do have to wonder why a bunch of cowboys with encephalic hats and localized excess testosterone are trying to convince me to get this TV service by using a company that has gone bankrupt. Then again, cowboy hats don't really mean marketing genius...

A map for mama

I am taking advantage of a dog-free house to quickly post this message. They are in the back yard barking at leaves or something but I only have a few minutes before they come tearing back in here and try to eat me.

This new house sounds great and all until you look at it through a cat's eyes. Then you realize that there is very little space where a cat can be free to lounge and lick themselves without fearing for a basset hound attack. I have included a map to show you just how bad the situation is - there is literally two mattress' worth of space where I am safe. And since they are both beneath mattresses I am not able to lay in the sun or chase my shakey mice at all.

So I'm not a big fan of the new house. The dogs can get at me even under the beds and bark at me. At least in the old house I had entire rooms to myself. The food and litter boxes are within plain sight of the dogs - so those of us cats with shy bladders have no other option but to wait until they go to their crates. Not to mention that stuff is on the other side of the house from the safe rooms.

So hopefully mama will look at this map and think about making the dogs live somewhere else, like Alaska or Botswana. I hear there are lots of basset hounds in Botswana. Let the Botswana cats deal with them.

Our new home

Well fellow hounds and their lucky owners, we have moved. Normally I like to keep you updated on all the goings on but this week my mama has been sick and she needed my constant attention. If not for me and my stern glares that cat Nibbler would have tried to sit on her tummy where her stitches are and that would have hurt her. So I have not been able to blog with my normal frequency.

But now mama is feeling better so I thought I had better write about our new house. We moved a couple of weekends ago and didn't have the internet right away because daddy is lazy and takes too long to do anything right.

Here we are giving mama the hound dog medical approval to go back to work.

Our new house is great! It's not as big as the old one which sounded bad to me at first - I thought maybe some of my toys might have been given away to make room for something stupid like a cat condo - but what it really means is that there are hardly any stairs. I have to step down one little stair to go into the room with the fireplace and I have to step over the doorframe to go outside and bark at the neighbors, but that's it! No more up and down plasticy stairs anymore. No more places for cats to hide from me. The only room I can't go into is the litterbox room but I can stick my head through the fence to make sure the cats aren't planning anymore takeovers.

Breezy is doing her doggy duty here.

I like this new house.

The floors aren't very carpety so you need to make sure you take your naps on the couch, but that is OK - we have plenty of furniture to choose from now that the basement couch and the upstairs couch are all within our reach.

Moving is very hard.

I haven't seen any squirrels yet and we don't have as many neighbors so there is only one other dog I have seen so far. But the fence wraps around to the front yard so I can bark at mama and daddy when they leave for work. There is also lots of stuff buried in the yard and there isn't much grass so we can dig in it. Daddy doesn't like that as much and we get hollered at a lot. But he hasn't even unpacked all the boxes so he ought to just go back inside and let us hounds be!

This house needs to be better organized before we can tear around.

We haven't had a chance to walk in the neighborhood yet and daddy says it is not as big as the old one, so the walks wouldn't be as long. I am OK with that, I don't mind short walks. But he also said we might have to go for car rides more often and visit the dog park.

I just realized I have never blogged about the dog park! There are geese an everything! That will have to be my next blog entry.

Anyway that is our new house. So far so good.

The terrible tri-color twosome

Rosco and Breezy have really been pains lately. Mama has had to yell at them several times for being bad dogs. Especially when she is cooking and Rosco gets in the way. I learned a long time ago that a lady needs her space when she is in her special place. That's why I don't like to sleep on the couch when lots of other dogs come piling up there with me - I need my beauty rest. Well, mama's special place is in the kitchen. I am also more likely to get samples of what she is cooking if I stay on her good side. Her peanut butter cookies are delicious!

Rosco is just a misbehaving child. He likes to shred things like tissue paper, and he is always trying to get into things he shouldn't like litter boxes and trash cans. He also likes to play toss the sock, and he gets hollered at all the time for stealing dirty laundry and running around the house with it. Lately he has been unrolling toilet paper. Me, I like to lay on the couch and snooze. The worst thing I ever do is chase cats and that's only because they deserve it.

Breezy is a high-strung basset. I have tried to teach her how to be cool and snoozy like me but she would rather gallop around the house like a newborn horse and howl at the top of her lungs. She also gets really bossy when I feel like play-fighting and barks in my face. I try and knock her over but with those long legs it can be difficult sometimes. She is also very demanding of mama and daddy when it comes to snuggling and it is just not worth it to try and outcompete her to get some belly rubs.

Neither one of them are any good at walks. Rosco just runs too fast while Breezy usually stops and gets drug behind us. I'm the only one who walks at the right pace. And playtime is the worst - I can't win because they gang up on me. Breezy attacks from above and Rosco tries to bite my legs. Tonight I was playing with my squeaky pig and daddy threw it for me. Breezy tried to steal it but I beat her to the toy. Then daddy chased me and told me to give him that squeaky pig, and I made him run all over the house. Finally I was laying on the couch grooming Mr. Squeaky Pig and then Breezy stole my toy!

I need new siblings.

Operation: Litterbox

Most of the rooms in this house we dogs own. I don't care what the cats tell you about Cathalla or anything else. When the gates come down the hounds come running. But there is one room that we never get to go in, and we get yelled at the moment we set one of our feet in the doorframe.

The laundry room.

Here is the laundry room

The laundry room is where mom and dad clean their clothes. While I do enjoy a good game of throw-the-sock, that alone does not make the laundry room so enticing. There are noisy machines in there that wash and dry clothes, and the floor is concrete (like our old basement, which was also a room where no dog was allowed to go). This is also the room with the cat food (up on a table, so we hounds cannot reach it).

Dumb ole cats

So this room has several mysteries. But it is well-guarded and difficult to enter, and most of what is in there is even harder to inspect because of how short a time you get to wander around. So we have limited opportunities even if we penetrate the laundry room's main defense - a tied off door.

Basset scientists are hard at work to unravel this mystery

But the biggest reason we are interested in that room is this: litter boxes. The litter box is a mystery to me. Cats do their outside business there, even though they get to go outside every once in awhile. Now don't get me wrong - we certainly don't want the cats coming out and pooping in our yard, chasing our birds and squirrels, or meowing at our neighbors (we have our neighbors trained to run at the sound of our howls - they would probably think we had been put in our place by those dumb cats). I just wonder why they have to go in a box. Then mom yells at dad because he has forgotten to clean the boxes (there are 7 of them, including one that runs by itself sometimes).

A robot that cleans poop - cats are so spoiled and lazy

I have made a few clandestine entries into the laundry room when the tied-off door is open (I used to be small enough to squeeze through until I was caught and then the tied-off door got tighter). I took some basset samples from the litter boxes for the basset scientists but I got caught by mom and dad. Then they scruffed me and yelled at me and brushed my teeth. They said I was a bad dog. I tried explaining to them that it was all in the name of science but they were pretty ticked off. So I laid low in my crate and analyzed my basset spy techniques to improve my chances of getting in and out of the laundry room without being detected. They had soon forgotten about it and I got some belly rubs.

The laundry room is still a mystery, but we are learning things slowly. There is something called a 'water heater' in there - I think it has to do with when they give us baths. Re-entry has gotten pretty hard though - now they have the new gate that we can't knock over PLUS the tied-off door.

All this to guard a bunch of cat poop?

But I'll keep trying. After my nap.

The perils of cathood

I haven't written on this blog in quite awhile. The last time I did I was extolling the virtues of Cathalla. I haven't been able to take advantage of it for some time. It's been really hot lately, we knocked our water dish over the other night and I was pretty sure mom was going to kill Bunsen for it, the sink broke and we weren't allowed to explore the cabinets beneath, the dogs (especially stupid Breezy) keep chasing us, our dog cousins (Chopper and Aksel) chased us (and they are a lot bigger than the dogs that live here), we aren't allowed to go outside, and worst of all, I have cat bowel problems.

Don't laugh.

Cat bowel problems are not fun. I end up running for the litter box and sitting there for a long time before the problem goes away. I also end up having to take tons of different pills and medicine and eat all kinds of different food. It hasn't quite progressed to a vet visit yet - they took me there once and the vet told us to try different food and medicine - but I am getting the feeling it will turn into another vet visit soon. So I have been hiding beneath the bed a lot lately.

Kind of a boring post, I know. I will try and escape into the yard again and find an adventure for my next post!

My world is now upside down

Recently my house has been rearranged without my permission or input. Previously all the cat stuff was downstairs while the dogs lived upstairs; there was lots of barking and running around at all hours of the day and it interrupted my sleep schedule. I was also forced to wait for my mama time until the stupid dogs were asleep. Now, however, the cat stuff is STILL downstairs, but the dog stuff has also been moved downstairs and the people bed is here as well. They say it is cooler down here and it will save on energy.

Well yes it IS cooler. But will it really save on energy? Probably not. You see, I will have to run that much faster to get to my litter boxes so I don't get attacked by the dogs. That will force me to eat more food, costing the people as much money as they might be saving. And let's not forget that it is the cat's turn to tear around the house now that the dogs are sleeping downstairs; let them wake up every time one of us jumps off the counter and lands on the floor.

At least the cats are on top where they belong.

Weird Word Wednesday #9

This week's dumb human phrase is the word 'nick', and its various uses that basically sound incorrect.

The first example I can think of is saying 'in the nick of time', as in, barely getting something done before it was too late. For example, 'Dad poured fresh cat food into my empty dish in the nick of time, because if he had waited a moment longer I would have been forced to kill him and do the job myself'.

That sort of thing.

Ok, so why does this 'nick' mean a small amount of time? According to my research, a nick was a unit of measure on a stick that was used to measure time. How this stick was used to measure time is beyond me. I don't bother with measuring time, except when I am waiting on my food or litter boxes to be tended. Anyway, a 'nick' of time sounds stupid, like something a human came up with.

The other use of the word 'nick' is when someone says 'I nicked myself while cutting up your food, Beaker, so I can't feed you this fresh chicken because I am bleeding'. To which I reply 'whatever you've got lots of blood and I don't have much chicken.' According to dictionary.com (human website), the word 'nick' can mean a small groove or cut on the surface. In my mind, the word is derived from a clumsy human who also owned a lot of knives and sharp tools.

Stupid humans.

Weird Word Wednesday #6: Korbin can kiss my 'big butt'

This week's weird word should actually be called this week's STUPID WORD WHO HAPPENS TO BE A STUPID STUPID STUPIDHEAD CAT.

His name is Korbin. You may be familiar with the rivalry that Korbin and I share; he has his opinions on things and I have the truth. His most recent diatribe went from being his usual ranting about pointless stuff and stupid opinions to directly attacking my form and figure as a cat.

First of all, I can't help the fact that I am a larger-figured cat than the rest of the lightweights in this house. It comes with having cat disabilities like a disfigured foot that was maimed by quack veterinarians three different times. If we cats could file for medical malpractice the idiots at Texas McVet's 'R Us would know my wrath.

Second, Korbin is a hippy cat who can't figure out if he wants long or short hair. He also has a really effeminate meow and sounds like a little girl most of the time. Plus he needs to have his butt shaved regularly or he walks around with half a litter box stuck to his behind. I personally would rather have a 'big butt' than a 'Korbin butt'.

So there. Next time think twice before taking on your obviously superior older brother.

Weird Word Wednesday #5

It's been awhile since I posted a blog about the woeful inadequacies of the human language. Some of you may have been wondering, 'When will Beaker post another insightful and scathing review of some silly thing people say?'

So sue me. They got another dog and I didn't feel much like typing.

This week's dumb human phrase is 'shindig'. Humans use this phrase when they are trying to say 'We are having a party or a get-together'. I have mostly heard this particularly stupid way of saying that coming from the mouths of teenagers and college-age humans, who I would not miss at all if they should suddenly die in their sleep tonight. According to Merriam-Webster's online dictionary (and since this is an institution run by - you guessed it - humans - their expertise is questionable at best), the word 'shindig' is probably an altered form of the word 'shindy'. Well, that was pretty helpful.

Thanks, idiots at Merriam-Webster.

Either way, we have yet again established that human beings are incapable of clear and concise speech. Their only real utility is in cleaning litter boxes, getting out the catnip, and purchasing and distributing cat food and water, and even at those tasks they are largely inadequate.

The waiting is the hardest part

I miss my dad. He's fun; he lets me walk on his shoulders, where I can look down on those dogs. He also fights with me, and we play Attack of the Shirt, which is where I jump at a shirt he throws over the back of a chair and kill it. I hope he comes home soon, he's on a mountain or something right now. Plus, my litter box needs cleaning. Also my food dish is getting less than 90% full.


He also sometimes lets me go outside. Outside is the best. That's where I met him and convinced him to bring me home. I even threw up on the seat of his truck on the way home to let him know he was mine. I know he appreciated it. But I'd like to go outside again.






I hope he comes home soon.