Hijacked

This post is hijacked today, by me. They call me Sweetie, but my cat name is Mayhem.

You see, the lady who usually does this, Shelly, is on an ultra low carb diet right now that made her brain shut down. So while she's over there, slouched down, figuring out what year this is, I'm taking over the post for today.

My story is short and sweet because I've only been on this earth four weeks. I was born a leader. My brothers and sisters take their cues from me. They pretty much believe everything I tell them, which works to my favor. 

We were born in the bar-b-cue pit. Our mom is wild and she thought that would be a safe place for us. I don't hold that against her. It's made me the cat I am today- powerful, wily, and capable of provoking my siblings to subversive acts all designed for one purpose: my amusement.

Just the other day, I got my brother, Smudge (his cat name is Doofus) to do something really funny.

I told him he would see some really neat things if he put his head in a small crack between two pieces of wood in the barn. He did just what I said and it was a thing of great pleasure to see how those humans reacted when they heard his loud crying. Shelly, the one still slouched over there trying to remember her name, dropped her rake and came running so fast she almost fell when she got into the barn. She got my little brother loose (all he had to do was lift his head up and he would have been out), held him close and took him back to where our food pan is. She murmured to him while I chuckled at how easy that was.

Doofus, err, Smudge, pranced back over to me happily. Guess what. Just a little later, I got him to do it again. This time, the big man, who cutting some firewood, threw down his expensive chainsaw and dinged it on a tank while he rushed to get to Doofus. Behind him came running a teenage girl who had just gotten out of her grandma's car. She tripped in her heels and dropped several shopping bags, scattering makeup in the hay. Of course, I was in the background, watching the whole thing, and I laughed so loud at their antics I was afraid they would hear me.

The funniest, though, was just last night. A skunk family came over to visit. I don't like them, but they like our food. I told my brothers and sisters the skunk babies would be fun to play with and have special toys they only bring out for their best friends. My brothers and sisters naturally went over to play. I hung back, just to watch.

My sibs got to playing and jumping on the baby skunks. Those skunks can be poor sports. When they felt my brothers and sisters had too much of the upper hand, they unleashed the worst smell all over them. I, being the puppet master I am, had no part of that action. I did enjoy watching the aftermath.

Now, my mom doesn't want to be near them because they stink.  The humans don't want to be near them because they stink. The only one that gets petted and loved? Me.

Hmmm. Wonder what my next trick will be...