MEOW! June Buggie here to let you in on a little secret:
Cats HATE Christmas!
It’s true, and here are just some of the reasons why.
- The stress. Yes, cats get very stressed out during the holidays, and it’s all YOUR fault! What with all that coming and going, it’s hard to keep to my regular schedule and sometimes my bowl ends up not full! This is unacceptable!
- The threats. “Be nice, Skeezer, or Santa won’t bring you anything.” Be nice? WTF? I think Santa knows I’m a cat, though I’m not sure you’ve figured that out yet. *smh*
- The temptation. It’s not bad enough that humans threaten us non-stop from Thanksgiving to Christmas morning, but then they also set these little traps to catch us. Trees filled with shiny things. Shiny things on walls. Shiny things on banisters. Shiny things everywhere! “Leave the tree alone Pookie!” It’s tempting to smother the humans as they sleep then play to our hearts’ content, but then who would feed us? *heavy sigh*
- The clothes. Listen here: if you want to wear ugly red sweaters and fuzzy hats with cat toys attached, that’s your business, but DON’T PUT THAT CRAP ON ME!!! Try it and I will scratch you ’till you bleed, then you won’t need an ugly sweater to show your holiday spirit.
- The photos. It’s not enough to put those stupid costumes on us; you also have to take a photo to show the world how much you hate us. And because you suck at photography, what should be a two-minute ordeal turns into a half-day encounter. Next time hire a professional, and pay the extra to get her or him to come to the house.
- The incessant cleaning. First you clean only to mess things up putting up all those decorations. Then you clean your mess over and over again, because people are coming. Because you want to take more stupid photos to post on Instagram. Because you don’t have a life and have nothing better to do. So what did you do with my cat toys? Uhhhhh!!!!!!
- The cooking. You make cookies for days, including cookies for the neighbor’s dog, but do you even make one little tiny cookie for the poor ignored cat who tolerates your nonsense day in and day out? Of course not! You cook for potlucks at work and at neighbors’ homes. You cook for relatives. You cook for “The Big Day.” “No, Mr. Snookums, you can’t help. Go away.” I feel so unloved.
- The singing. I don’t know how to tell you this, but your singing sounds worse than the neighbor’s dog when he howls along with the fire truck siren at 2 AM, and we all know how much you love hearing THAT, don’t we? Leave the singing of those sappy songs to the professionals. And me.
- The people. Who are all these people coming in and out of MY castle? Uncle Edgar? Cousin Ragu? Sister Shiloh and her emotional comfort mini-horse? Get these idiots out of here! Why couldn’t you have a relative that’s allergic to cats? Why?!?!?
- Santa. In this era where you’re so afraid of terrorism you’ll let a chump paid minimum wage look at you naked through a metal detector, you expect me to believe you are cool with some old white dude in red coming into our home and leaving stuff? Without calling in the bomb squad to check it out for explosives? AND you want to pay him for his troubles with some of those gut-bomb cookies you made? Puleeze!!!! If I see that old fart in THIS HOUSE, he’s getting it!
- The presents. After all those threats of my not getting anything, I always end up with a haul. And sure, it’s nice to get a new scratching post, and catnip toys, and treats, and all that other stuff, but you would have given me all that anyway, because you love me. At least there’s the paper to chase around and new boxes to lie in, so I guess that makes it worthwhile.
- Just when I get used to having the holidays here, they’re gone. I kinda liked watching the lights on the sideways-leaning tree twinkle with soft holiday music playing in the background. I’d sit on your lap and let you scratch my chin while you drank cocoa and reminisced about holidays gone by. Now you’ll go back to watching reruns on television or reading romance novels after spending the day shoveling snow in the northern hemisphere or sweating to death in the southern hemisphere. *cue eye roll*
So enjoy your holiday celebration if you must, but give us cats a break, will ya? Bribery with freshly cooked chicken would help. And if you do get the chicken, enjoy it for me. I had to choose the vegan to live with. *sigh*