A Note for Tia

Gentle felines,

I interrupt my regular programming to add a kind note sent to me by a new friend, Tia. Tia is a Persian Colorpoint who lives with her human. Tia has had some difficulty in posting to my blog, and so sent her comments to me through the kind intercession of Whicky Wuudler. It seems that others have had difficulty in posting to my blog as well. I blame my human. I blame it all on my human. She is very thumbist, with her superior attitude and facility with a can opener, but pride, they say, goeth before a fall, and if it turns out that my so-called "secretary" is responsible for the wonky settings on my blog that prevented kind cats from leaving me their gentle thoughts, her fall is going to be a jolly steep one, indeed. Mind you, no injuries. I still require service. I just want to get her attention, is all.

I have (laboriously, and grumbling all the while) disabled the word verification feature on this blog. I am mortified to discover that this feature does not work with the software available to all readers, but especially with the version used by Tia. I apologize to Tia, and to her human, and herewith attach Tia's comments. Tia, if you ever wish to leave me your thoughts, please do so at the email address so kindly provided you by Whicky. Whicky, thank you. Without your assistance I might have missed a new friend.

Best regards,
Puss-Puss.

Puss-Puss, I can't tell you what a joy it is to finally find someone not only like-minded, but a tortie to boot! Your thoughts on humans I find to be spot on. I have been searching for a way to put into words what I felt about them, and you have ended that search. The concept of them as kittens always fits exactly with the behaviour I have seen from my own pet. She, like yours when she was sick, spent all of her time talking into the thing they call a phone, asking for others to come and help her, look after her. Thankfully, because she was contageous, nobody came, so I was able to keep her from danger by draping over the top of her and refusing to move, therefore forcefully preventing her from escaping from the den she had made on the sofa with blankets and pillows. We have a Dogface, who I'm sure might have thought about eating her in her weakened state if I hadn't intervened.

This human caring is very hard work, and I'm just so glad that I have another to talk about my frustrations with. My human is abominable. Her latest transgression involves trying to see if I have kittens in my tummy. She keeps taking me to the vet peoples for poking and prodding and all manner of invasion of privacy. Just like a kitten with a new toy, she can't leave it alone until she has exhausted all possibility of finding an answer. Do they not know the meaning of privacy? Of self restraint? Of "wait until I am ready to reveal it, all right?"

Tia.

P.S. Tia's blog can be found at cuddlesandcatnip.blogspot.com. And Tia, a final thought: perhaps the Dogface is a handy tool after all. If your human lets any of those so-called "vet" quacks poke you again, then I say fill your human's pockets full of chicken as soon as you get her home, get the dog's attention, and make a break for it. Let the dog pin her down and show her the meaning of having her privacy invaded. A little chicken is a small sacrifice to make in order to put a stop to such impertinence. If you choose to have kittens, she can just wait to find that out like everybody else. Really! The nerve.

P.-P.