I’m going to be honest. I find writing the title of this blog as weird as you must find reading it. But I’m not sure what else to do, so an open letter to my cat sounds like the logical next step at this point. I know what you’re thinking – she’s insane he has no thumbs. How is he going to access this blog? And you’d be right. Except he knows how to use my Ipad for Cat Fishing, so why not general reading? (I feel the need to clarify that there is a Friskies game for cats on the Ipad, and that Hey Jude does not actually catphish, awesome as that may be).
As you may recall, I blogged about my other cat (Penny Lane, the Russian spy), a few months ago. Noticing a pattern? Thatimacrazycatlady? There’s that. Or the more obvious fact – our cats are named after Beatles songs… and what is weirder than a cat named Penny Lane? A cat named Hey Jude. All because Carlos Danger (I’m trying out a new nickname for my live-in Quixote, courtesy of Anthony Weiner) is a Beatles fanatic. It’s also great because it already has the greeting built in. And I dare you to meet someone named Jude and NOT say “Hey, Jude”. Dare. You.
So before I begin my letter, I think it necessary to give you a little background. This is the most handsome cat you’ll ever meet. I’m not even joking. His big blue eyes have a Frank Sinatra meet Gollum-esque quality, although lucky for us, he hasn’t started twirling a ring to rule us all around his tiny cat claw yet.
We’re also pretty sure he’s a very needy Chihuahua in a cat suit and not a cat at all. I was initially told that his breed (which they call Snowshoe to be fancy-pants), requires a lot of attention and love. This seemed like a win-win for us, because Penny Lane hated me at the time and was plotting my demise. I desperately wanted a cat who loved me and I thought he’d wear her down – you know, break her little Russian spy spirit.
His neediness has surpassed my wildest cat dreams and is now bordering on LiLo-esque attempts at attention. He screams at all of us. All. Damn. Day. For food. For love. For fun. I’m convinced he’d pull a Naomi Campbell on us, if he could grasp something in his paw to hurl across the room. In a lazy attempt at parenting my cat, I’m hoping this open letter will make him see the light. I’m going to make a great parent one day.
Dear Hey Jude,
It’s me. Your human. Not the one who doesn’t enjoy you pouncing on him because someone points a laser mouse above his head while he sleeps. The other human who actually points the laser. The one who dressed you as a bumblebee for Halloween. We have to talk about some recent etiquette transgressions committed by vous, darling.
Farting on Ladies
Don’t act shocked. We all fart. I don’t take issue with this. I do, however, disagree with farting on our neighbors when they come over to feed you while we’re away. It’s in poor taste to jump on a lady’s lap, look directly at her, fart and then hop down because, well, “fire in the hole”. Not cool, little man.
Urinating on the Bathroom Rug
I’m not sure why you do this so frequently. If Penny Lane can suck it up and use one of two litter boxes, surely you can. Is this because everyone thinks you’re a female cat? They can’t help it, love muppet. You’re just so handsome – you’re the Paul Newman of cats. Remember, take a sad song and make it better. So, please stop urinating on the bathroom rug… and P.S. it would also be awesome if you stopped pulling down the towels to do the same. That was an unpleasant way to dry my face last weekend.
Claw Sharpening on Wood Furniture
I mean, seriously… what the crap? What are you, a tiger? You have several scratching posts at your disposal. Also, do you have a secret wheel to sharpen your claws while we’re gone? They look like razor clams coming out of your teeny tiny cat paws.
Shadoobing on the Bed/Me/Anywhere but your Box
Ok, this was kind of a big one. Mostly because we were still in the bed when it happened. I’d really appreciate you taking your passive-aggressiveness out on someone else if you find the litter box not up to snuff (in this case, the bathroom rug would be preferable). Also, I should take this opportunity to thank you for not sharting on me since that first vet visit three years ago. Remember when the vet said he’d never seen such a tiny animal shart on a human with such vigor? And then he gave me dog shampoo to put down my bra to help with the smell til I got home? Because I remember that.
Your kitten breath
I can always tell when you’ve cleaned the top of Penny’s head. Because it smells like a troll. Smelly cat, smelly cat. What are we feeding you?
Photobombing
Okay, this one didn’t come from me so much as it did your sister. She’s asked that you stop usurping her life moments. Case in point below.
With all this said, it’s important to note that we also love you. We I love that you wake us up every morning and that you walk horizontally across the bed if you feel we’ve been sleeping too long. You dip your paw in my water glass to drink, you sleep in a tent every night, and you learned how to fetch your toy mouse. Until you realized it would be more fun to watch me throw it and then pick it up myself. Hey Jude 1, Human 0.
You, sir, are the best chihuahua in a cat suit a girl could want. With that said, if you could stop crapping on our linens, that would be wicked awesome. Nah nah nah nah. Nah nah nah nah.
Love,
Your human whose hair you enjoy pulling and the one who made you think “que te calles” was your real name
onedayisoneday 