Brinkley’s Corner: Life with Cats – The Arrival

Posted by on Jul 6, 2015 in Uncategorized | Comments Off


 What is this animal, they call, cat? It’s fast. It’s limber. It’s able to leap small children in a single bounce!  It’s ruining my life!

Rumor even has it that humans once worshiped these feline devils. Yes, my fellow canines, this is what I heard, and I’m here to tell you that these diamond-eyed freaks  believe they deserve such reverence! How do I know this, you ask? Because three of these obsessively clean  pests have recently moved into my house, and my human have already fallen into a trance, no doubt hypnotized by the swishing of their tails!

Why do we need them? Why are they here? What was wrong with the way it was before! I plead with anyone that can answer these simple questions.

The house rules have already begun to change. Rules like “don’t poop in the house” have flown right out the window! That’s right; you’re hearing it here first, these rejects poop in the very dog house mom has bought for them. In their dog house!

The easy pace of life has now turned stark raving mad! Evenings that used to wind down at 10 pm, now roar alive at 1 am. Games of chase emanate sporadically and there’s no clear winner or loser, just nonsense energy accomplishing nothing. It’s full on body wrestling, and my fellow canines, don’t you try to join in! No. Because all play will cease, as if the boogieman I’ve been warning mom about all these years, really did show up!

Everyone stops wide eyed, ears and tails twitching, like they got a hold of some bad kibble–I think that smelly stuff they eat from a can makes them nuts, but more on that later. Then comes all this odd posturing, backs arched, and when provoked, they will spit at you! That’s right, they spit like the smelly neighbor next door—I don’t like him, but more on him later–which is odd behavior for critters seemingly obsession with cleanliness.

Then again, maybe all this spitting is why they are always grooming themselves?

I know. I know, this sounds nuts doesn’t it? And there’s nobody to ask, really, as I can’t ask the freaks because they speak some kind of Pig-Latin–just saying, their language is creepy, in a soothing yet threatening way–and I can’t ask mom because even she watches them with a strange look on her face. It like when she’s watching a scary movie and she covers her face with her hands, and then peeks through her fingers like she can’t stop watching though it may kill her! She seemingly loves to torment herself, thus why she brought these things home in the first place.

Now what are we to do with them? They don’t come when they’re called, and that’s a big no-no! They protect nothing because they’re too busy cleaning for their next worshiping service, an event I’ve yet to see happen and remain skeptical that it ever really did.

Please, worship cats? Why? They never even go outside, because Mom says something called “curiosity” will try to kill them. Doesn’t sound like Idol material to me! Nobody worships the weak. Shoot, if I knew where this curiosity lived, I’d pay him a visit myself!
In fact, this brings me to why I wrote to all of you today. Please, I beg, if you know the address and phone number of this ally please give him my email! We are in grave danger. My house hold is under an attack, and I fear—YOUR’S IS NEXT!

The Cat’s

11109248_10155453550200094_8958520904139402421_o “The chap is odd, don’t you think? Why do you suppose he chases his tail? Do you really think he’ll ever catch it?”

1890553_10152667115492977_1922532617_o “Oh don’t be silly.  I do like him. He makes me laugh. Oh! Did you see mom’s shoes today, how fabulous were they? I so wish I had some. Every girl deserves nice shoes.”

11130492_10155453550005094_3634725099480543171_oDog? What dog?