Anna came over today

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I hope a ninja doesn’t climb out of kittens mouth.

Hot damn, it’s been a while. I guess that what happens when all of the games I’ve been looking forward to are released in one month conjunctive to each either. I HAVE TO BEAT THEM ALL TO MOVE ON TO THE NEXT ONE.
You don’t understand, I have four games here that all want me to play them.
Four. 4. Vier. Shi. Quatre.
And those are all of the languages I am able to count to ten in. Don’t ask me to do anything else but count, because I most likely can’t.
On top of the games I was ravenously playing in an attempt to move on to the next one, (which, for the most part didn’t happen. I got too excited about 4/5th’s of the way through and moved to the next one) spring break had recently began which meant I GOT TO PLAY MAPLESTORY AGAIN. So that was a week. Pokemon took another week of my time up. Those two were the main culprits.

Damn, I remember when this post was going to be about pessimism. Maybe I should make it about my ADHD at this point. Nah, I’ll just continue to be-bop around subjects.

My cat, I mean my prodigy cat not the overweight one that I mentioned here, is sitting at the end of my bed staring at me intensely. I think he’s practicing the telekinesis I’m sure he has.

“WHY IS HE A PRODIGY CAT?” you ask yourself, while stroking the scruff on your chin. My cat is a prodigy because everything he does is too intelligent for kittens to do.

I saved him from the kitty holocaust at the tiny kitten age of just 4 weeks. Day one he made an number two on my floor once and a number one once or twice. That’s alright, he’s four weeks old. That is allowed kitten behavior. The next day he had successfully litter trained himself. No help from the other cats in my house, as one was outside and the other hated him. He just knew. Also, he has never had an accident on the floor since.

The day after that he learned to climb the ladder up to my bunk bed. “THAT’S NOT EVEN IMPRESSIVE!” you cry out “MY CAT CLIMBS LADDERS ALL THE TIME” (actually you might not be saying that, because you don’t necessarily own a cat and if you do have one it may be only my cats that do that. All of them climb ladders, so I’m not sure if it’s common kitty behavior)
“YES,” I exclaim, trying to quell your attacks on my poor kitten, “But mine learned it at only 4 weeks old and in one day!”
I was impressed.

After that he decided to learn a few of the commands my dogs know. Through watching them for about a week, and their reactions to my behavior, he learned to sit on command. I understand some cats can be taught to obey commands, but mine just decided to up and learn it on his own because why the fuck not.

Prodigy Cat is currently in the process of teaching himself to use the toilet. Our oldest cat does it, who also taught herself, and I can see Prodigy Cat trying to grasp the concept. He gets up there and sits, then just stands for a while. He must not understand the next step, BUT HE’LL GET THERE, DAMNIT.

One of my hypothesis (yes, I have a few. The cat is a fucking prodigy) is that he is confused as to what animal he actually is since he was taken away from his family of cats at such a young age, and he just mimics everything in the house. Sometimes I see him sitting on the floor in the most random places, and I swear to god he thinks he’s an end table. Most cats sit near things, like beside the refrigerator or near/in a box, or they sit on one of the 8 rugs we own, but he sits away from everything. Just BAM, smack dab in the middle of the floor. I have tripped over him so many times in the middle of the night. Fucker blends in.

My newest hypothesis is that he’s a ninja/assassin/ninja assassin infiltrating my home trying to get whatever information he needs before he disappears adorably in to the night one final time. I hope this one isn’t it because he’s really god damned adorable, and I want to see him learn more hilarious things.

Make-believe cats

My cat likes to play make-believe. His favorite make-believe scenario is “I want to go outside.” He’ll scratch the screen door, pretending he knows he wants to be out there. Then when I open the door wide for him he’ll walk over and stick his face outside and keep his butt in the house.

There I am, stuck in a limbo of catdom. I’m holding the door wide open, trying to sway him to go all the way outside. Then he plops down. I have to lightly tap him with the door about three times before he finally decides to get up and go. Then he sits there on my porch and meows dramatically. Usually loud meows, reminiscent of an in-heat cat. Except he’s a boy.

My cat also likes to play the make-believe game where I’m the prey; lowly, self loathing, tired and slow; and he’s the hunter; magnificent, sleek, a warrior and always ready to pounce. So here I am, lowly prey doing lowly prey things like watching TV or talking to my boyfriend, and SWACK!
RIGHT IN MY FUCKING FACE AHH GOD DAMNIT ZEUS, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU WEIGH 30 POUNDS.

And he starts to purr really loudly, very proud of himself. He kneads my legs, and makes a little nest.

That’s when he starts to play his other make-believe game. This make-believe game is “purr purr I’m so cute and I rub my face against you and I really want you to pet me” then I do, and he likes it, and he likes it, THEN HE BITES ME WHY ARE YOU BITING ME LET GO and he does let go, and he looks at me all proud of himself, and I throw him off my bed. He tries really hard to get back on my bed after that. He always looks really adorable while he does it.

Of course when he does try to get back up on my bed he takes the long way around, needlessly jumps on my table and knocks over everything on his way over to me, then starts to smack me on the eyeball.

Then at night-time and in the morning he likes to make-believe my hair is either spaghetti or cereal. I don’t really know which, and quite frankly it doesn’t matter because either way he tries to eat it.

He also likes to make-believe my boyfriends head is…..I’m not sure what he thinks my boyfriends head is. My cat headbutts my boyfriend right on the forehead. He only does it in the morning. It might just be his wake-up call, because even my cat understands that time is of the essence.

The cat won.

A cat challenged me informally to a duel once. At the vulnerable age of nine years old, I was laying on the floor watching TV. I believe it was Bill Nye, the science guy. I’ve always been a loser. It was always either Bill Nye or The Joy of Painting. Or Reading Rainbow. We only got PBS at my babysitters. I SHOULD BE SMARTER, DAMNIT. Bill, Ross, and that guy from Star Trek betrayed me.

Anyways, the babysitters cat, a sleek black ruffian about a year old, decided that he really didn’t like my attitude. He was fed up with me eating food and prancing around and generally being a human. He neared me, looking innocent enough. “Hey rasc-” DEATHSTRIKE

That little fucker grabbed my face and didn’t let go. He dug into my delicate little 9-year-old cheeks like so many chunks of salmons, using his front ones to anchor into my skull.

My babysitter, upon hearing my deranged screams, rushed onto the scene. She ripped the cat off my face and threw it outside, then hurried me into the bathroom and began to clean me up. Tears and blood were streaming down my face. Mostly blood.

“DON’T *SNIFF* HURT *SNIFF* THE-E-E-E KIIITTTYYYYYY” I cried.
She brushed my hair away from my bloody face. My mom arrived early from work for some reason just as my babysitter had begun to call her.

Mom: WHAT HAPPENED?
Babysitter: I WAS IN THE KITCHEN MAKING SUPPER AND I GUESS THE CAT GOT HER
Mom: OH MY GOD, SKYLAR ARE YOU OKAY?
Me: Mommy, am I going to have to go to the doctors?
Mom: OF COURSE YOU ARE! YOU’RE PROBABLY GOING TO NEED STITCHES.

I knew what stitches were. When my sisters dad had hurt himself, he had to get stitches. I did not want stitches.

Me: MOM JASON HAS STITCHES AND THEY LOOK LIKE LITTLE NAILS IN HIS ARMS AND THEY LOOK BAD AND THEY ARE REALLY GROSS AND WHAT IF MY FRIENDS WILL NOT PLAY WITH ME ANYMORE BECAUSE THEY DO NOT WANT TO GET STITCHES BECAUSE JASON HAD THEM AND NOW I HAVE THEM TOO.
Mom: Skylar, don’t be ridiculous. You have to get stitches. That scratch is really bad
Me: NO MOMMY IT’S NOT IT DIDN’T HURT AT ALL

I removed the washcloth I had been holding over my face and, lo and behold, it was bad. I could feel the warm blood trickle down my face, and it was coming quickly at that.

My mom rushed me into the car and buckled me into my seat. We got to the hospital, a 20 mile trip, in under 10 minutes. I was pretty impressed. So impressed I questioned the validity of that time estimate.

My mother Bulldozed her way to the front of the line past someone who looked like they may have just lost an eye and an old guy who was yelling at his feet, and plopped me on the counter.

Mom: MY DAUGHTER IS BLEEDING TO DEATH AND SHE NEEDS TO SEE A DOCTOR NOW.

I’m entirely unsure what happened in the time waiting for the doctor, because I can’t remember any of it. I don’t know if I was unconscious or just thinking about cats.

Once we got in there the doctor examined what was left of my face.

Doctor: Hmm…what did you do to make the cat hate you?
Me: NOTHING I WAS WATCHING SCIENCE.
Doctor: Haha, well, you’re going to have to get stitches
Me: YOU CAN’T JASON HAS STITCHES AND THEN NOT ANY OF MY FRIENDS WILL PLAY WITH ME

He must have thought I was psychotic.

Doctor: We’ll numb you and everything, it won’t even hurt. Now, lie down on the surgical table.

He administered the shot, and my mom pet my hair. “Now see,” she asked, “was that so bad?” I whimpered.

Doctor: Alright. Now is the fun part.
Me: Is this going to hurt?
Doctor: With that shot you shouldn’t feel anything but a tickle under your cheek

He was right, I didn’t feel anything. Well, until the last 3 stitches were put in and the numbing hadn’t reached up there. I started groan

Me: Mooooommmm it hurts so muuuucccchhh
Mom: You’re numb you can’t feel anything.
Me: Mom it huuurrrtttsssss
Mom: It’s all in your head. (leave it to my mom to try to convince me I’m wrong about being in pain)
Doctor: Actually, I don’t think we numbed her enough, so she may be feeling these stitches going in.
Me: Will you put more numb stuff in?
Doctor: We’re almost done
Me: But it hurts so much

That didn’t stop him though. No sir, he had a job to do, and that was making my face better. If he had to shove a needle in my completely responsive and very-much-sensitive skin, then damn it, he was going to. He finished up

Me: Mommy my face hurts
Mom: I know sweetie.
Doctor: I think she needs to get a tetanus shot though
Me: Is that going to hurt?
Mom: You know that new Pokemon game? Crystal? Let’s go pick that up right after the shot, because you were such a good girl. But, you can only get it if you don’t move during the shot.
Me: YAY! OKAY I PROMISE

I didn’t know what kind of commitment I was making. The tetanus shot was the worse thing I had been through all day. I remember wanting to trade in the tetanus shot and just get mauled by a crazy cat again.

Me: Can we go get Pokemon now?
Mom: Yes, we’ll go now
Me: Can we go to McDonald’s? I’m hungry
Mom: You can’t eat with your mouth stitched shut!

I tried to open my mouth, and realized she was right. That day I played Pokémon Crystal and ate lots of applesauce.

It’s called selective breeding, and I feel like we need it

My dog is afraid of food.
I own a chihuahua, and it kind of looks like this.

Notice the giant eyeball, huge fat, rat ears and stupid legs.
Yeah, that’s him. He always looks that sad, and he is really not very smart.

He’s afraid to eat. I feel like you need to be a special kind of animal to be afraid of one of the very basic necessary skills to survive.

I have to convince him to eat his food by super nicely calling his name and tapping his food bowl. SOMETIMES, if I’m lucky, he’ll run over wagging is tail and shove his face into his bowl. At that point he’ll kind of lap at his bowl, like what dogs do when they drink, in an attempt to get some of the food to stick to his tongue.

But a lot of the time he will walk over to the corner of the room and shake. Just….shake. I think one time he tried to eat and some huge thing tried to bite his nose off and now he is afraid of his food. But I really have no fucking idea why he does it.

If he were the wild, he would die. Not only because of his fear of eating, but also because his intelligence level is about the same as moss. I successfully taught him how to sit and lie down, but that was after a month and a half of intense and rigorous training

I’m not a noob with dogs, either. I have owned dogs since the beginning of my life, and at one point I had thought I would want to be a dog trainer so I studied for awhile at it. So that this dog was so completely unwilling to learn was astounding. BUT, there were two things this dog taught itself to do. Stand on his hind legs and dance around like a little circus animal, and open the door to my bathroom.

I don’t know why he picked up this impossibly annoying trick, but he did. Our bathroom door doesn’t lock, so when company is over I am at the mercy of my chihuahua.

I have had to start leaning over and holding my door shut so he can’t open it. IT scratches at it and whines really loud. Everyone will always know when I am in the bathroom for the rest of my life.