Just because I was accidentally let into the garage once does not mean
that it is now a part of my official domain. When I hear the human pulling
into the garage I will not jump onto the washing machine ready to leap
into the garage the moment the connecting door is opened. The sounds of
grocery bags crashing to the floor scares me.
While the human's laserprinter makes an excellent perch for looking out the office window, I realize that I'm now too big and fat to use it in this way. I will not look shocked and outraged when the human asks me to get down from the printer.
Dry cat food is both tasty and nutritious, and it is always available. I need not starve myself and act pitiful all day long in anticipation of the canned food.
The matted hair on my chest does not make me look more muscular. Speaking of the matted hair on my chest, there are no vital organs attached to it, so getting the mats combed and/or cut out does not require me to go into jungle kitty survive-at-any-cost mode, clawing and biting my way to freedom.
While the human appreciates the affection showed when I make bread on his stomach or leg, I must realize that not all parts of the human's body are appropriate for kneading. When I do cause pain by kneading in the wrong place, and the human puts his hand under the sheet and moves his sensitive parts away from my paws, that is not an invitation to play pounce on the sheet monster with all my strength.
When jumping from the top of the chiffarobe onto the human's bed in the middle of the night I will not use his groin or stomach or adam's apple as my landing target.
I am a black cat. I must realize that the human's eyes are less sensitive in the dark than mine are. If I forget this and get stepped on in the middle of the middle of the night I will not wail about it for an hour unless I want to get put into the Car Of Doom and taken to the vet.
I have long fur, and I must realize that this means that occasionally I will need to be brushed. When this happens I will not carry on like my skin is being scraped off by a cheese grater. This makes my cat buddies nervous.
Nugget is allowed to use the litterbox. When I see Nugget using the litterbox I will not immediately run into the dining room and shit on the floor.
When the human sets out 3 cat treats it's supposed to be one for each cat. I will not race around wolfing down all of the treats as fast as I can.
I am not as cool as I'd like people to think I am.
The Christmas tree is not made of catnip, and the ornaments are not toys.
I can see visitors just fine without needing to be 1 inch from their face
at all times. I do not need to smell everyone's breath as it is none of
my business what they've been eating.
While the vacuum cleaner is obviously evil and trying to get me, I will try to remember that the human tries very hard to control the beast and keep it away from me. Also, once the beast's awful roaring stops that means the human has successfully wrestled it back into the closet and it's safe for me to come back out. I do not need to continue hiding for 6 more hours just in case.
The sound of pool balls being broke apart does not signal the impending destruction of the universe.
My human's bear foot slipper is not a whore. I will treat it with respect.
My human does not exist solely to brush my fur. I will not act pitiful and woebegone if the human gets within 3 feet of the brush without using it on me.
I will try to remember that the human's office chair has wheels on it, and that those wheels are not mere decoration. If my tail gets run over because I decided to take a nap behind that chair it's my own fault and I will not attack Buddy for laughing at me. (Whenever Happy get frustrated by anything at all he attacks Buddy. Buddy earned this treatment by relentlessly harassing Happy as a kitten.).
I will try very hard to resist my urge to jump into the large black bags that are sometimes available in the kitchen. If I give in to my urges and get yucky stuff all over me I will submit to being sprayed off in the sink without trying to rip the human's testicles off.
The Christmas tree is not made of catnip, and the ornaments are not toys.
When I decide to go into psycho-kitty mode I will stop being ambiguous about it. No more of this rubbing lovingly against the vacuum lady's legs, then hissing and growling at her if she tries to move. This two-faced behavior confuses her and may even contribute to her falling down the stairs.
When the human puts me into the Cage Of Death for a trip to the vet, I
will not try to use my own urine as a corrosive agent to eat through the
cage walls.
The things that the human scoops out of the litterbox while cleaning it are not toys. I will not bat them from the scoop onto the floor and under the washing machine.
It is difficult for the human to clean the litterbox when I'm using it. I will at least wait until his hands are clear.
Ringworm salve is not food. I will not immediately start licking it off as soon as the human finishes rubbing it on me.
When I allow the terror to overwhelm me and I decide to flee down the stairs as fast as I can, I will at least maintain enough clarity to make sure the door is open first. I will also strive to touch at least one of the fourteen steps on the way down.
When the black cat (a neighborhood stray) comes onto the deck looking for handouts I will not try to show off by climbing up the blinds.
My human's friends and relatives are not cat torturers from the planet Killacat IV. I need not climb up inside the couch and cower in terror each time someone comes to visit the human.
When the human goes outside, then comes back in, it probably means that he forgot his keys. It does not mean that he forgot to kill and eat me.
There is nothing interesting underneath the pool table cover.
The "Gobblers" cat treats that the human tries to give me are not poison. I should know this by the way Buddy wolfs them down.
The sound of the doorbell ringing is not the seventh sign of the apocalypse. Neither is the sound of the phone ringing, or the dryer buzzer, or the alarm clock.
Speaking of the alarm clock, when I am sleeping with the human and the alarm goes off, I will not try to hide by burrowing into his abdomen.
The Christmas tree is not made of catnip, and the ornaments are not toys.
