Feesh no mas

Weetneess: the las' sardines I weel ebber ead, EBBER, oud ob a can slash teen.

The Wooma said BEEG TREAD, Estorbo, you're geddeen' sardines een arleeb oil to help your digestion whad ees a leedle...slow.

Yom! I said.

I tasde. I leeck the oil. I ead halb the feesh. I stare ad eed. I walgh aroun' the plade whad Ambrose, my deear deparded frien' sen' to me. I stare. I sigh.

I star' to corber orp the plade weeth imaginary san': scrape, scrape, scrape. Eef my enemies smell thees they weel fine' me. I mos' hide eed.

Scrape, scrape. I torn my bag arn eed an' walgh away, deegneefy'.

Estorbo? Que paso? she says. Those wor eemported Portuguese sardines!?

YOU ead them, I soyyest. She deed. Frarm the can nard my plade, whad was buried onder the sand.

They tasted fine' she say.

Whad. Ebber. I say.

Those sardines can keess my tail, I say.

Estorbo, you're weird, she says.

You can talgh, I say. Who's talkeen' to themselbes?

Woul' you lighe sorm pelleds, she as'.

WOUL' I LIGHE SORM PELLEDS?

Breeng them arn, I shout!

Teenkleteenkleteenkle eento my deesh whad deeardedepartedAmbrose sen' me. She adds water, como siempre, por my keedneys.

I dance arn my hine'legs.

She puts eed down.

I ead. I dreenk! Thees ees Paradise.

Dayeen.

Dayoud.

Dayeen dayoud

Hello Wooman.

Eed's OK por you to loog ad me weeth adoration, bod mos' you poin' thad theen' ad me? Eed cleecks. I hade cleecks.


Ees thad nard the same camera I toogh care ob a weegh or so ago? Een thees ber' same spart?

Eed ees...

Ah si, I see thad the shorthair woan' close so goo'. Weell you sen' eed to be feexed? No...Beence has boughd you a new camera weeth eemprobed macro feature?

I see [polideboice]. Thad's nice. Does thad mean you weell be takeen' peectures of the berbery small hairs eenside my nose een the near future?

I can' waid to maghe eeds acquaintance.

KERPOW!

Remine' you ob sormtheen'?

Corm closer leedle gorl...Whad beeg eyes you gard.

SHAZZAMSWOT!

Sheet. Meessed.

Sigh.

You're treemeen' my claws manana?

Whyporque? I was yos playeen'....

Corm yos a leedle closer...

Cad's eyes

Ebery mobe you maghe...I yam watcheen' you.

Rooscapedes

Who says I doan' hab a waist?

The Wooman ees goeen' to cheat arn me...

Weeth Khedi the blagfootedafricancat. And Andre Khamel (below), Khedi's brorder.

An' Spook, who ees allowed arn the table neear food! She ees the faboureed ob the Boss.

An' the hairy Maine Coon, Welleengton, whom eberybardy calls Thad Cad. Has Thad Cad caught a bord? Thad Cad ees bad: close the weendows so he cannard go out...There ees a rad een the garden? Poot Thad Cad oud so he can cadge eed!

An'...DA.R.G.S. Thees peeg ees Ted.

An' hees seester, Maggie.

An' their Oncle, the faboureet ob the Wooman, eef you can belieb eed, Ben. Dumb darg, fetcheen' seaweed...

You see whad I mos' soffhair?

Hello?

Groun' Carntrol to the Woo-man: taghe your protein peells an' put your helmet arn.

Commenceen' countdown, enjeens arn.

Chegh eegneetion an' my gard's lorf be weeth you.

Thees ees Groun' Carntrol to the Woo-man! You've reeally made the grade. An' the papers wan' to know whose shorts you wear.

Now eed's time to leeb the capsule eef you dare.

...

....

Hello?

!

Doan' slam the door ob the capsule!

No!

The d.a.r.g. ees there por scienteefeec porpoises: doan' keeck eed oud! Eed has no space suit!

Your circuit's dead, there's sormtheen' wrarng! Can you heear me, Woo-man? Can you heear me Wooman?

Can you heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee....eeeeee....eear me?

Self medeecation

The Wooman ees geebeen' me a headache: she ees selleen' me to the highes' beedhair. So I weell chew hor Japonese reebbon grass onteell the cares ob the world are bod a deem memory. Por dessert I weell eed whad ees lefd ob the cadneep arn the terrace. May an' June are bod a deestan' memory. Weenter ees cormeen'. Weenter ees uporn me.

Where ees she goeen'? When weell she corm bag? Why does she leab me?

Open letter

Gracias to Chreesee, een Cape Town.

The following was found posted very low on a refrigerator door.

Dear Dogs and Cats:

The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Racing me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort, however. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other, stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out on the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.

For the last time, there is no secret exit from the bathroom! If, by some miracle, I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge in an attempt to open the door. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years - canine/feline attendance is not required.

The proper order for kissing is: Kiss me first, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough.

Finally, in fairness, dear pets, I have posted the following message on the front door:

TO ALL NON-PET OWNERS WHO VISIT AND LIKE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT OUR PETS:

(1) They live here. You don't.
(2) If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. That's why they call it 'fur'-niture.
(3) I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.
(4) To you, they are animals. To me, they are adopted sons/daughters who are short, hairy, walk on all fours and don't speak clearly.

Remember, dogs and cats are better than kids because they
(1) eat less,
(2) don't ask for money all the time,
(3) are easier to train,
(4) normally come when called,
(5) never ask to drive the car,
(6) don't hang out with drug-using people;
(7) don't smoke or drink,
(8) don't want to wear your clothes,
(9) don't have to buy the latest fashions,
(10) don't need a gazillion dollars for college and
(11) if they get pregnant, you can sell their children ...

Keeller keeddee

Weeth thanks to Oncle Reg an' the Cape Geengers een Paarl por thees veedeo...

Where are my dineros?

You toogh my morney away, Wooman...

Why?

I need eed.

Whad?

You need these plans?

Bod they are where my morney was seetteen'...

These plans are eemportant? Porque?

I should ged orp?

Whyporque?

You are draween' a garden? I doan' see no garden...

Maybe eef you geeb my morney bag I weel geeb you the plans?

Thad ees nard a nice way to speak to a cad.



I yam stayeen'.

You feegure eed oud.

Organize yourselb.

Worn down, worn to go!

Yes, folks! Yes! I weel leeb weeth Meester Sheffield een the Financial Deestreect por Worn Mornth, starteen' meed January.

Now do I hab any takehairs por the fors' mornth, starteen' meed Decembhair???

Four weeghs ob blag cad lorf, weet, weesdom an' meenksarft for to stroghe teel I porr. A readymade hartwater barttle an' feline councellor. Four weeghs, een short, weeth me!

Muchas gracias to the yooman ob Hallow-een por setteen' os orp.

More! More!

Notice the Wooman ees takeen' peectures. The camera ees leempeen' a leedle an' needs painkeellhairs, bod eed can still taghe peectures.

I can't leab it!

I nebber knew...Now I know. I hab $60 in change. An' I weel seet arn eed onteell eet hatches. The Wooman ees habandoneen' me, an' I mos' pay por sleepeen' een a flarphouse.

Notice from the Wooman

Estorbo's cat-sitter arrangement for December through February fell through, and I am looking for someone who can either live-in with him, or someone to whose house he can move for two months. Remuneration negotiable and all supplies provided.

As well as lots of black cat love, backchat and unsolicited witticisms.

Possibly some of his kitty-friends have leads, and thanks to Halloween's yooman for her suggestion a while ago.

If anyone has any ideas please contact Estorbo directly or me at marieyviljoen(at)gmail(dot)com

Thank you!

The carnsequences

...ob threateneen' my morney:

...I yam warneen' you.

SWAT!!!!!

Oh! You drarped your camera? Eed broghe?

The lens ees storck an' woan' retraghd?

Boo friggeen' hoo.

I warned you.

Chreestmas ees cormeen'

Someone said sormtheen' about cads habeen' secret morney.

So I decided I must cound my change.

I.Lorf.My.Morney.

Doan' torch my morney, Man!

I theenk I weel sleep arn eed to proteghd eed.

The reeal NYTimes

You will fine' thees een eeds orreegeenal carnteghds here:

There’s a Cat in My Soup

Q. One of my best friends owns a cat that has complete run of her house. She allows it to walk on her kitchen counters and stove. The cat jumps onto the dining table during meals.
My friend thinks this is cute. I’m appalled — ever mindful that cats lick themselves to distraction, and are in and out of their litter boxes all day. Am I being too picky, or do I have a right to insist that my food be prepared and eaten in a more hygienic environment?

Anonymous, the Bronx

A. Your friend has some nerve! Shopping and cooking and serving you meals — all in plain sight of Puss ’n Boots! Obviously, mealtime at the kitty castle sounds downright disgusting. But be careful. In my experience, people’s pets are often bona fide members of the family.
Since your friend clearly finds her cat’s behavior adorable, I’d just grin like the Cheshire variety and keep your mouth shut — unless you’d also be apt to tell her that her husband is ugly or her daughter dimwitted. Better to avoid meals at her place, and invite her to yours or out to restaurants. As for the added costs, just think of the money you’ll save on dry cleaning — now that you won’t be covered in cat hair every time you see her.

Don Es. Whad do my cad frien's theenk?

Por the record. I yam nard allowed arn the counthair. I am allowed arn the table eef there ees no food there. Bod see the answer: "Een my essperience, people's peds are often bona fide membhairs ob the familia..."

Como, hello? Thees writehair has no cad. Nard eben a darg.

What abou' walkeen' ou'side arn the sidewalks where the dargs make kaka? Onless you taghe arf your shoes when you are home , your floor ees fool ob dargkaka.

Ob course we leeck ourselbes. Por thees reason we do nard smell. Lighe d.a.r.g.s.

We are nard "een an' oud" ob our leeder barxes. We go een. We do whad we need to do. We corm oud. We doan' need nobardy to peeck opr op a steameen' orp por os an' throw eed een the neighbor's trashcan.

Dios mio.

Feesh?

I know you are cooking seekh botee tonighd, bod coul' we pleease hab thees patrani feesh eenstead?

Dayeen' dayoud

Life ees good. I hab orange reebbon to chaze. Eed ees ber' clebber reebbon. Bod I caughrd eed.

I wen' to the terrace to sneeff the new ween' bloween'...

I sad arn the daybed an' thoughd deep thoughds.

Hexercise your bode!

Ged oud an' bode por the Blag Cad.

You can do eed!

Shine!

I lighe the son. She ees good por my beetemeen D lebels.

No mas Halloween

Aborve: Here I yam dressed as the keeng ob the Blagfeet.

My duties as leeader ob my peeple, eenbolbe a lard ob theenkeen', becos we hab a lard ob prarblems. Soon we mos' probide some infeedels weeth torkeys...

Also, I fine' thad power corrorpts...

The crown is bairdhair as a nice larng shiny theen' to chase.

Who said torkeys? Thees feathairs are makeen' me hongree!

I hope the peectures speak por themselves. How was your Halloween?

Below, I yam recorboreen' arn the terrace weeth my Sweess chard.