First, we want fed or we want access to food. If you don’t put the food dishes on the floor quickly enough in the morning, you get one warning shot – the plastic water pitcher knocked to the floor. Then we’ll just knock the bowls on the floor. What do you mean, why don’t we just eat from the counter? Don’t question. Just follow the cues.
Second, locking us in the bathroom is uncool. We want to help the workman with his task and it is part of the natural order of things that we chase the old cats – do you realize that in the jungle, they would go out and die on their own rather than sleep in front of the furnace vent and get the best morsels? You are the one violating nature! So don’t be “disappointed” that we rearrange the bathroom a bit. On the other hand, we should always have access to the bathroom so never ever close the door. The rug is soft and sunny in the afternoon. Plus, it is ours.
Third, if we are sitting in the living room flicking our tail and looking around, don’t assume that we want to be “squeezed” (what a terrible term) and swoop in like a marauding bird of prey. Clearly, we are bored and want to be entertained, not to entertain you with our squeaks and howls of protest against squeezing. Have you heard of fuzzy balls and catnip?
Next, the sleeping arrangement. We spend all day kneading the bedding to suit us and the you come home and “straighten it up” so you can sleep. Then – wait for it – your feet are sticking up just where we want to sleep. And when we kiss your forehead at 2 AM – we are hungry. You are the one who put up the food so why should we suffer hunger pains?
Finally, the dogs. Aside from being stinky occupiers of the pet beds and launching furtive strikes on our cat food dishes, the dogs are wholly unsuitable for this living arrangement. Their sole redeeming quality is providing warmth in times when *someone* decides to replace the furnace. And even then, they insist on grooming us. Ick.
So perfection? Constant access to food and every room in the house, no squeezing and get us our own queen sized bed. Oh yeah, the dogs gotta go. Or maybe lock them in the bathroom once in a while.
Got it? Good.
What will I be doing on July 30? Clearly, I’ll be coping with “why can’t we go outside like the dogs” version of this post.