Notes from the Greatest Spy in the Universe

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The Can Opener is in a foul mood today.  First, she stayed in my condo ALL day, kvetching that it was too hot to go outside. Then she complained that I was taking up the entire couch and she had nowhere to sit. Who said she was allowed to sit?

Commander, how much longer will I be on this assignment? I clearly remember the conversation we had about me spying on the Can Openers and reporting back to you, and I swear I thought you said you'd be back for me before the Tuna Harvest. Remember that?

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The Can Opener finally went out of the condo today. I didn't think she'd ever leave. I have three days worth of toilet-paper shredding, hair shedding, and fur-ball coughing-up to catch up on .  I am exhausted just thinking about it.

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I was in a deep sleep, dreaming about home, when the Can Opener woke me up by warbling my cat name over and over.  Turns out she wanted  me to go into the bathroom and kill a spider. WTF? Like I was going to get off the couch just for that.

So, Commander, what's the hot skinny (two things the Can Opener is  NOT) on my transfer? Haven't heard from you in about a long time. I am beginning to get nervous.

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I got some tuna fish today for breakfast. Woo-hoo! Normally, when there is tuna fish, the Can Opener will give me some pieces each morning till its all gone. So, Commander, I  can wait here a few more days. Lets make it mid-week, what do you say?

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Tuna gone. No messages from the Mother Ship. I am having a Catfka-esque experience. I pray I do not wake up tomorrow as a cockroach.  If the Can Opener sees me, she will scream then try to kill me with her shoe. 

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It has been a while since I have written. This whole planet of Can Openers like to do the same things over and over, and the worst annual event is coming up soon.  The Can Opener will celebrate this poor excuse for a holiday by robbing me of my dignity.  One year, she forced a "Superman" outfit on me, and cooed while she took a zillion pictures. If you have seen these pictures, note that I am NOT smiling.  

I have already seen this years humiliation while rummaging around in her closet.  It appears she plans to dress me as an Amish cat.  Commander, I am begging for you or Death to save me from this horror.

One thing I want to make clear: if anyone on the Mother Ship has seen these pictures, I implore you to destroy them before they are seen by others.  Marvin, this means you.  I know how you are.  You may be my sister's kitty daddy, but if I find out that you have circulated this pictures to the guys, I swear I will kill you dead 9 times. That's right.....9 times.

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Had a long growl with Jingles, the new cat next door.
Turns out he is one of us.
Turns out Marvin is now the Commander.
Turns out I am probably screwed. 

Also turns out that male cats are supposed to have balls. Jingles showed me. I used to have them, until one day when the Can Opener took me for a "nice ride." Things got blurry after that. All I know is, I woke up later in the Can-Opener's bed without my balls.  If it weren't for my three meals a day, daily brushing, four hundred cat toys, and my nightly num-nums, I don't know how I would go on.

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Since it appears that the Mother Ship has decided I am expendable, I have decided to forget what the Can Opener did to me. She does serve me well, I  will give her that.  

Marvin, dude, is this anyway to treat me? You slept with my sister. Remember that time I helped you to score some primo catnip? We are nearly family, for Cat 's sake.

Whatever you decide, I do want you to know that I forgive you.....NOT!!! I swear I will hunt you down and have my revenge, or my name isn't Mr. Boo Boo Fluffy Butt!!

The Grey-Haired Goddess Sees All

There is good reason for me to believe that when I pass from this life I am heading straight to h-e-double hockey sticks. I could list all of the 876,389 reasons why I think this, but let me illustrate with a recent example.

Dr. Lifesaver was out of the office, so I decided to take the down time and concentrate on two things I have avoided my entire life--the nitty and the gritty. Yes, that's right--the day was spent on technical reports involving numbers and stuff. Arrghh. Somebody save me from the details.

A friend, who also works at the hospital, called to inform me that Stan**(not his real name) was bring the new manager, Harry**(nope, not his real  name, either) around to introduce him. I was so bored out of my mind that I drew this conversation out as much as possible.

"Tell me all about Harry, " I begged, a little too chipper for believability.

"Ah, well, um...oh, yeah, he has a son in college. Pre-med, I believe..." she trailed off.

"Fascinating! What else?"

"Um,...what else?"

Clearly her level of boredom in this conversation had surpassed my overall boredom. Difference was, she actually had some interesting things to do and quickly got off the phone, leaving me to store this tiny bit of  Harry information into the back of my brain. It's where I keep other useless trivial, such as words to '70's television theme songs, best ways to lose weight, and other stupid shit.

About an hour later, Stan and Harry appeared at my office door.

"Hey, Grey-Haired Goddess," Stan greeted me as he entered with Harry. "This is Harry, the new clinic manager."

Harry extended his hand as a greeting.  A plan emerged in my little pea brain.

I grasped the hand of Harry and said, " Good to meet you." Then I closed my eyes, as if I had fallen into a trance, and said, real spooky-like, "I can feel you have a son."

Stan's jaw dropped. 

"How...how did you do that?" he asked. "No, really...how..."

I ignored him and continued, still clutching Harry's hand. "And your son, he's in college. Ah, pre-med."

Stan, literally, jumped backwards out of my office. "Nu-uh! How'd you know? Nu-uh." he shouted from the hallway.

Meanwhile, Harry looked like he didn't know whether to say a prayer or jump out the window. 

Stan reached into my office, grabbed Harry by the elbow and yanked him out of my office. Then they amscrayed. Really fast. Seriously, there are skid marks outside my office.

So, to all my friends who are perfectly law-abiding and straight and  narrow--and I know I have some friends like that, even though your names escape me at the moment--please remember me after we depart this life. Send me some cool ice water from time to time, if you would.

The rest of y'all...the seers and sinners, poets and problem children...those nearest and dearest to my black little heart...I will meet up with you at the burning gates.