Separate But Equal

The motto in our house is "Separate But Equal" and in this case it means that the canine lives in the front three rooms and the felines live in the back three rooms, but we are all loved equally.

We didn't always have to live separately, but then The Incident Of Which We Shall Not Speak occurred and mom and dad decided it was not safe to keep us together.

Grover and I like to think of it as Siri being banished because he's a big stupid dog with big stupid teeth, but when no one is home, we sit on one side of the door that divides our space from his space and he sits on his side and tells us that we are the ones being banished, not him. And he tells us that we better not try to touch his food again. And he tells us that if we try to sneak into his space he will eat us.

OK, he doesn't say these things to Grover. He LIKES Grover. He doesn't like me. I don't like him either and that is why whenever I see him I try to attack him. And that is why he's banished. But he insists WE are banished.

Sometimes we believe him. Like the past two nights. Because he got to sleep in the bedroom with our parents and the bedroom is in OUR part of the apartment! We did NOT say he could go in there.

We slept outside the bedroom door all night and we could hear him in there snoring along with our dad and let me tell you, 'pissed off' does not even begin to express what Grover and I are feeling right now.

We are contemplating a proper punishment for not only our mom and dad, but for Siri, too.

I don't know who the heck he thinks he is, but if he sleeps in our bedroom again tonight, this means war!

This picture was taken way back before All Hell Broke Loose.

This gives you somewhat of a hint as to why The Incident of Which We Shall Not Speak occurred.

OK, one more hint, you didn't think a dog would tolerate getting hit in the face by a cat, would you?

OK, just one more hint...did you know that if a dog tries to bite you because you kept hitting him in the head and charging him and hissing at him, and your mom jumps between you and the dog, and she gets bit really hard and gets a bone infection that lasts for months it means the dog gets banished?

Well let this be a warning to all dogs. Do NOT mess with the cats. And do NOT bite the mom!

And stay out of our bedroom, too! This means YOU, Siri!

Frootbat Friday

Hi.

It's Grover.

Listen.

I've been invited to join Frootbat Friday so here is one of my favorite pictures of myself - me drinking my mom's bath water. This is why my mom can't use bubble bath anymore - it would make the water taste funny and we both know she only takes baths so that I can have a long, warm drink.

I prefer to drink from anything other than my water bowl.

I like to drink from the faucet, the toilet (this one always gets me in trouble but the water is so COLD!), any cup or glass of liquid I see lying about (mom usually leaves a glass full of water on the counter for me) and my favorite way to drink is to lick water off my mom's hands when she's washing dishes or brushing her teeth.

So, thanks for inviting me. I am honored to be a Frootbat (even though I never knew I was one before just now!).

Love,

Grover

P.S. Does Pig count as a Frootbat? I don't think so. We all know that bats have fur and Pig does not. I will be sure to tell him he can't join us.

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Hi, it's Pig.

I am SO a Frootbat and here is a picture to prove it.

Just look at those EARS!

And, um, please don't stare at my bits. I was trying to cover them up with my tail. It didn't work.

Grover thinks he's so cute.

Last night he slept under the covers by mom's shoulder but his head stuck out and rested on the pillow like a person would sleep, and mom made a big fuss over how cute Grover looked, oh how sweet little Grover is, funny little Grover....blah blah blah blah!

Here, look at both of us.

Who's cuter?

It's ME, right?

RIGHT?!

Hi.

This is Grover.

Listen, I love peanut butter. My mom was just packing her lunch for work tomorrow and she made these things she calls "Ladybugs on a Log" that are really a combination of three of my favorite foods. Celery sticks (she peels them, we both hate the strings), stuffed with peanut butter and dotted with a few dried cranberries. If she uses raisins we call them "Ants on a Log".

I don't care what we call them, all I care about is whenever she makes some for herself she makes a teeny one for me, too.

I lick and lick the peanut butter and I chew and chew the cranberries and I lick the celery but don't chew it...it's the leaves I love the most! I could eat celery leaves three times a day if she'd give them to me. But she doesn't.

I like a lot of different kinds of people food and I've discovered that if I sit on the countertop when mom is making something and I put on my Especially-Cute-Face and gaze at her lovingly with my big green eyes, she'll usually give me a tiny taste. Oh, and sometimes I have to meow really loud to get her attention. This is how I discovered that I love cheese, meat, chicken, butter, yogurt, eggs, jicama, Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Crackers, cottage cheese, Asian Rice cracker snacks, tuna fish, Granny Smith apples...pretty much everything she lets me taste I like.

Pig is not as big a fan of people food as I am. You'd think he would be since he's such a fat Pig. He likes some things, but you'd think he loved to eat potatoes and mushrooms all the time since that is what he smells like. But he doesn't. I like to eat both of those. But I don't like that Pig smells like them, especially when he doesn't eat them. It's just too weird.

I've always been small and sinewy, and I've always eaten a lot. If I were human, I think I'd be a model, a super model. Not one of those Amazonian ones, more like a Kate Moss one. Minus the drug problem and skanky boyfriend.

I know I'm a boy, but we're talking hypothetical here so don't get all caught up in the details.

Anyway, the whole point of this is to tell you I like peanut butter. And celery. And cranberries.

Serious.

Love,

Grover

Grover and I love catnip, even though mom says it makes me a nasty drunk because sometimes I'll bite her after I play with it.

She has this big tub o' catnip that she hides in the kitchen cabinet above the sink and, of course we know it's there; we just haven't yet figured out how to knock it down so we can have as much as we want, whenever we want.

She's pretty fair about it though...she takes old socks and fills the toes with catnip and ties them up tight with the knot just to the top of the catnip and these things are FUN! One for me and one for Grover.

Grover likes to carry his up onto the counter and kick the crap out of it up there.

I prefer the floor for my own personal kick-the-shit-out-of-the-catnip-sock entertainment.

We both like to lick our catnip socks but Grover says I lick mine too much and it gets soggy and nasty and then Siri's fur sticks all over it. Why does that dog have so much FUR and why is he always leaving it everywhere!?

Mom thinks I'm the one that's a nasty drunk but it's really Grover! He thinks he's all tough after he plays with his sock and then he sneak attacks me and tries to pin me down. He says he's the big brother and I'm the little brother and I better start acting like it. He hits me hard with his back paws, but he only weighs 6 pounds and I weigh 23 pounds so he doesn't hurt me too much, usually, but sometimes he does. I never let him know he does though. No way. I don't care that he's five years older than me, I'm nearly 4 times his weight! That's right!

After we play we like to eat and then we drink water and then we nap.

Tell your mom to make you a catnip sock! It's fun! But keep your big brother away from the catnip.

Wahoo!

Guess what year it is?

That's right - the Year of the Pig!

It's all about me this year - all about the Pig.

Finally, I am getting the attention and respect I deserve.

It's about damned time.