As soon as our backs are turned...
I might've expected it from the young ones. Perhaps I wouldn't feel so shocked and betrayed if it had been Weebles or Eleven, because really - I don't put anything past those two. But to come home and find the awful secret of the cats' evil matriarch, well...it's just plain disheartening.
Maybe it was silly and naive of me to think I could go out shopping and leave the cats unsupervised. My first clue that I was totally wrong was when I came home and found Wobbles, trapped inside a box.
As I nearly rushed to my little buddy's aid, but took pictures instead, I asked him how he'd come to be in this predicament. Why wasn't the matriarch looking out for poor, innocent little Wobbles?
Wobbles replied "Mauw woe wow mauw mrrrauw!" Roughly translated, that means, "Smidge put me in here for her own evil amusement!"
Smidge? Surely that couldn't be right. Smidge may be the Evil Cow Kitty of Doom, but she's also The Mamas, mother figure to all the house's cats. Wobbles must be mistaken.
I caught Rowdy prowling the halls, and asked whether she knew if there was any substance to the rumor that Smidge had been remiss in her chaperone duties.
Rowdy curtly replied that the interview was over, and threatened to break my camera if I didn't stop nosing around, asking things about her mother which weren't my affair. I know what side my starfish is buttered on, so I discontinued that inquiry.
When I walked around the corner, however, there was no more need for questions or doubt. I could see with my own four eyes the trap into which the Cow Kitty had fallen.
It was the nip.
I had to face the fact that Smidge, my favorite evil bowling cow kitty, was an addict. She was ripped to the tits, all eight of 'em, and I'd left her in charge of the other cats. How could I have been so blind?
Surely this was not the first time.
I stared in horror as Smidge immersed herself in the drugs, rolling herself up like a big, furry catnip doobie.
It was like she was having a drug-fueled orgy with herself. Leave it to Smidge to pull off a solo orgy. Kudos, my well-toasted little friend.
Then she spotted me. I stood frozen in terror as her eyes tried to focus on me. She stared unsteadily for a good long time, then she said:
"Dude. Ya gotta try this."
Inside my mind, I fought the idea with every fiber of my fiber. I had come to intervene, not to be sucked into the nip vortex.
I'm a little hazy on what happened after that; all I know is, this is a lot funnier than it was before:
Maybe it was silly and naive of me to think I could go out shopping and leave the cats unsupervised. My first clue that I was totally wrong was when I came home and found Wobbles, trapped inside a box.
As I nearly rushed to my little buddy's aid, but took pictures instead, I asked him how he'd come to be in this predicament. Why wasn't the matriarch looking out for poor, innocent little Wobbles?
Wobbles replied "Mauw woe wow mauw mrrrauw!" Roughly translated, that means, "Smidge put me in here for her own evil amusement!"
Smidge? Surely that couldn't be right. Smidge may be the Evil Cow Kitty of Doom, but she's also The Mamas, mother figure to all the house's cats. Wobbles must be mistaken.
I caught Rowdy prowling the halls, and asked whether she knew if there was any substance to the rumor that Smidge had been remiss in her chaperone duties.
Rowdy curtly replied that the interview was over, and threatened to break my camera if I didn't stop nosing around, asking things about her mother which weren't my affair. I know what side my starfish is buttered on, so I discontinued that inquiry.
When I walked around the corner, however, there was no more need for questions or doubt. I could see with my own four eyes the trap into which the Cow Kitty had fallen.
It was the nip.
I had to face the fact that Smidge, my favorite evil bowling cow kitty, was an addict. She was ripped to the tits, all eight of 'em, and I'd left her in charge of the other cats. How could I have been so blind?
Surely this was not the first time.
I stared in horror as Smidge immersed herself in the drugs, rolling herself up like a big, furry catnip doobie.
It was like she was having a drug-fueled orgy with herself. Leave it to Smidge to pull off a solo orgy. Kudos, my well-toasted little friend.
Then she spotted me. I stood frozen in terror as her eyes tried to focus on me. She stared unsteadily for a good long time, then she said:
"Dude. Ya gotta try this."
Inside my mind, I fought the idea with every fiber of my fiber. I had come to intervene, not to be sucked into the nip vortex.
I'm a little hazy on what happened after that; all I know is, this is a lot funnier than it was before:
Katy Barzedor proclaimed this to be so at 3:18 AM
10 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':
I'm sorry, but I'm just not as surprised as you at what Her Evilness will do under the call of the nip.
I seem to remember a very poignant photo exhibit of Smidge under the influence last year, along with the captions "So high...can't stop rolling."
I think a bit of intervention may be necessary.
Just say no, Bucky.
My poor baby Wobbles! How could anybody trap my poor little boy in a box like that?
Evil Smidge.
It's not a nip house, it's a nip home
Wobbles looks EXACTLY like my cat, Midnight. My 3 ladies have a NIP problem, too. Wasted lives on the couch. Hopeless,just hopeless.
"Iaaaaaye Haave Becooome Comfortably Numb"
dc
Bucky - I'm shocked and more than a little saddened by your implications that CAT NIP can be fun.
Many people each year sell their household goods, jewelry and clothing to get a 6 ounce bag from the local Petsmart. Before you know it, they're strung out on cat nip, willing to sell sexual favors and their children to score some.
Shame, shame, shame.
Just Say KNOW. Harmless fun huh?!
And...cigars are the gateway drug...as most in the know,know.
Well, Bucky, you are now experiencing the never-know-what’s-coming-next joy of living with cats. Good pics to document the situation. Just keep your camera ready, because you’ll never-know-what’s-coming-next!
They are cute great pics
"ripped to the tits"..... LOL. Hi-larious.
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