COOKIE?!?!?!
Oh, sorry. Mum says I shouldn't launch myself at people but I just get so excited! You might have a cookie and then I'll be your best friend. Or maybe a whole BAG of cookies!
Wait...you don't smell like cookie.
Oh. Sad kitty. Many noises of woe and despair.
Loco says my meow sounds weird but what does that furball know? He's always trying to pick a fight, especially with Zig. They don't get that when Mum's mind is on being protective, it isn't on treats. More specifically, giving treats to us cats. Sometimes she puts the tasty morsels on one of those not-a-toy discs that go smash-crash-bang when they hit the floor.
(Plates, Mum calls them. Why doesn't she get a nice, deep bowl like the rest of us? Humans are so odd...)
Oh, are you sitting in one of the really big cat beds that Mum likes so much? That's nice. I can show you all the best features of this room. You see the big spinning thing up there? It makes the air move faster and it smells like dust. Mum caught me trying to catch one of the spinning things once. She yowled for a good solid five minutes about me not doing dumb things and hurting myself. As if that stupid spinning thing could leave a scratch on a cat as agile and nimble as me.
(If Ash tries to tell you a story about the time I got my head stuck in the evil hide-all-the-cookies jar, don't you believe it! He's such a stupid hairball sometimes.)
Oh, you want to pet me? That's fine but my head's not that interesting. Let me just scoot around here...there you go. Thump the rump, yep that's it just a little harder, hey why you stop?
Sometimes I'll start running all over the house for no particular reason, just to get Mum's eyes on me. I hate it when she stares at the flicker box with the square of buttons and the thing-that-is-a-mouse-but-is-not-a-toy-Bad-Sam.
I don't like that thing. It makes click-click noises but every time I try to swat it away and protect Mum from getting a bite on her hand-paw, I get scolded.
I much prefer a high-four. That's where I slap one of my very attractive paws against Mum's hand-paw. Then she calls me her smart Sammy. Smart Sammy means I'm the most brilliant creature on four legs (or two, since humans obviously aren't as smart as cats. They don't even have sense enough to use the litter box, for crying out loud.) Sometimes when she's in a happy mood, high-four means a cookie.
COOKIE?!?!
Who said it? Where's the cookie? You'd better leave me more than the crumbs!
Wait...I said cookie?
Oh, sorry. I guess I upset your little cup of smelly brown stuff. I don't care for that stuff but when Mum drinks it and it's biting-nasty-cold in the big outside, sometimes she'll snuggle with me under the warm-fuzzy-Mum-bed-cover.
(She calls this thing a blanket. I call it a handsome cat's cuddling toy. Since I'm the only really handsome cat in the house, it really should be all mine but sometimes I tolerate the other cats as long as they don't get too feisty and try to kick me out.)
Mum's bed is the best. I don't know why she leaves the stupid little beds on the floor when we all mostly end up snuggling with her. It must be for when she brings in a new kitten. It doesn't happen often (thank goodness) but I suppose those beds are a good way to keep the little treat snatchers in their place.
Once when I was a kitten, one of those floor-bed things attacked me! I was just swatting at the little white square paper sticking out of the edge when the whole round surface flipped right over and pinned me. Mum wasn't in the room but all the other cats yowl-laughed fit to burst the ear-drums of a big, dumb dog. I was so embarrassed!
I give that evil cat cruncher a good play-fight every once in a while, just to remind it who's boss.
You'll have to excuse me for leaving you to the attentions of the less-than-handsome cats. Mum is taking her chair and she's going to be missing her Sammy. After all, I've been out of her sight for almost a whole minute! How could she bear such a long parting? I sincerely hope you'll find a cat as charming and smart and well-behaved as me in the near future and...
...wait, what is that in Mum's hand-paw?
Is that...
...could it be...
YES! It's...a...COOKIE!!!!
Mmm...Happy Sammy!