In general, like all cats, I hate dogs. They are loud, smelly and uncouth. In short, they are as un-cat as can be. My neighbors used to have a dog – a pug. My Provider liked the canine, which shows you that she 1) has no taste and 2) no brain. This misfit (the dog, not my Provider) used to bounce into my apartment and zip through my living room.
He would come up to me and touch my nose –yuck! My Provider used to coo that it was so cute and that I should be a friendly neighbor and play with him. Yeah, sure, I will do that the moment my Provider stops removing the fur from her legs. Luckily, the neighbors moved and took the Thing with them.
I often watch television with my Provider. We each take half of the couch. I think this is chutzpah since I want to stretch out on the whole couch. Since my Provider is stronger than I am (damn all that fitness nonsense!) and I am just too lazy, I tolerate her sitting next to me. One day, we were watching some channel (don’t know which one or even in what language – it’s all gibberish to me anyway) and we saw this Paris Hilton person with her dog. Now that gave me a good laugh! First of all, it’s the size of a small cat and obviously it also strives to look like one – unsuccessfully I might add. It looks like a cross between a rabbit, a piglet and an elf. Its Provider, the PH woman, is obviously aware of this and hides its ugly form in designer outfits or stuffs the mutt in Gucci bags.
The Creature is not stupid though; it repeatedly tries to run off. Since it’s small (I could easily squash it my sitting on it) with little legs not designed for speed, it cannot run fast and far enough. PH keeps schlepping it back to her- even the little pink running shoes it’s forced to wear don’t help it escape.
Now you have to understand, I am not an Evil Cat. I do sympathize with this poor non-cat thing. So I hereby invite it to my home. Considering its size, it won’t eat much of my cat nibbles. It for sure will not use my cat litter box. It will find a place to sleep – somewhere in a corner preferably. And best of all, my Provider doesn’t want her pets to wear clothes. Not sure if this is pure kindness on her part – she is stingy, so may be she just doesn’t want to fork out the money. Once the mutt moves in, the first thing I will do is take off its shoes. My Provider takes hers off every time she comes home from her fitness center and let me play with them. So I will be happy to chew on the little pink ones as well. And in time, I am sure that I will get used to the dog's looks and smell.
If the going gets too tough for the creature, the canine can come to me – I might even teach it to purr and to open the fridge….

My name is Samuel Clemens The Cat, and like all cats, I am a Superior Being.
The reason that I have this blog is not because I want to educate you ignorandi, but my Provider has one, so I insisted on having one as well.
Let’s get one thing straight – I am a cat and therefore political incorrect. So if you are a sensitive soul, go buy a puppy and leave me alone.
I live in a four-room apartment with my Provider, who is OK most of the time.
Like all humans, she can be dense, so I have to shout at her. Somehow, this amuses her resulting in her picking me up, hugging me and cooing “Oh, Samuel, you are so cute!” Nu, talking about stating the obvious!
I see myself as a wee little kitten, although this does not always seem to be accurate.
I used to be able to stretch out on one of my Provider’s thighs – now I need her whole lap. My surroundings claim that I am a 20 lbs cat and that I look like Ariel Sharon in cat form. That’s fine by me – I think he’s gorgeous!
I will update you on my exciting life – you might ever learn something from it!

Le Chat, c’est Moi