Blogosphere, I give you closure.

Dear Blogoshpere, I have been remiss, and I apologise. Much to my chagrin, many months have passed since last I posted. Considering how much has transpired during this time, however, I believe you will forgive my incommunicado period. Please know, it was not my intention to neglect.

Firstly, you be pleased to know that since January, I have been happily adjusting to life in my NEW HOME! My new humans are quite excellent, and their training is coming along nicely. They have learned well how to share the bed with a feline of my, ahem, heft. But, Blogosphere, I am getting ahead of myself; for much preceded this happy development.

Unfortunately, I had a bit of an accident. Worry not, I am quite alright. I have a slight limp, but I believe it adds character. I suppose I must divulge the nature of this accident, though I do have some embarrassment around it. Primary Human 'drolly' described this incident as 'Mike's attempted acrobatics', but she was never particularly clever with words. As I have mentioned previously, I consider personal development to be of the highest importance. I am not ashamed to tell you, Blogosphere, that most of my endeavors have been more... intellectual, in nature. Frankly, physicality has never been my strong suit. Well, recognizing that I had been neglectful of this area of my life, I decided to do what any rational, self-actualized, 23 pound cat would do: I would take up gymnastics. Though I have never been much of a sports enthusiast, I have always admired the grace and strength of such athletes. I chose the balance beam as my first event. I imagine that most beginning gymnasts start with a beam close to the ground, but I thought perhaps a greater challenge would better compel me to success. Furthermore, the only appropriate instrument happened to be located at approximately 8 feet... up. Never one to hesitate, I charged toward my target, leaping and climbing my way up a vertical post. Once atop the beam, though somewhat unnerved by the height, I rallied and continued with my routine. You should have seen me, Blogosphere, I leaped and twirled, somersaulted and flipped. Just at the zenith of my performance, however, I did not so much soar as I did plummet. Although I did fall gracefully, I also fell hard. I sustained soft tissue damage to my paw. I was laid up for quite some time, and sadly, my gymnastics career was over before it began.

It was not long after this, that a lovely young couple came, and became quite smitten with me. As soon as I was reasonably healed, I came to reside with them; and I must say, I am quite content. There is another cat, Loretta, that is tolerably good company. The house is furnished with all that I need--including a litter box which accommodates the fuller-figured cat.  The food is good, the window sills are warm, the pats are frequent, and life is good. And so, Bologosphere, I retire. I know you will miss my insights, but I believe it is always best to 'leave them wanting more'. I wish you all the very best; and if you will now excuse me, I need to go lie on my desk.

Mixed Feelings

Blogospohere, I have conflicted feelings. Pablo is Gone. Relieved as I am that my nemesis has vacated the premises, I can't help but wonder why he has a home with a human and a desk, and I do not. I hope that this phenomenon is not a result of my... direct manner. Should I be more conciliatory? Has my acid wit diminished my appeal? I will now make an effort to be more less critical and generally more amiable.

Here goes... Let's see... Did you see the sunrise this morning? Very nice. Lots of pink...

What else... What's in the news?... Lady Gaga is expected to be the popular choice for this year's trick-or-treaters. Very interesting. When I see the direction of popular culture I feel very... encouraged and optimistic...

Alrighty, other positive things to say...

Primary Human got a new haircut... quite fetching.

SDKJGH :z.sjdn gk;sdnjgl;zsj!!!!!!!!

I can't do this!!!

I'm sorry, Blogosphere, I tried!

I did not see the sunrise, as the view from the shelter is quite un-spectacular.

Had the position of Archenemies not already  been filled by Pablo--adopted or not--I would choose Top 40 Inane Pablum as my enemy--Lady Gaga included! Cultural icon indeed. I could wrap myself in a shower curtain and pontificate about ill-thought relationships, interspersed with random noises.

Finally, Primary Human is ridiculous. I'm not sure she even brushes her hair.

Ahhh, that's better.

Sorry, Blogosphere. I tried. If you'll forgive the cliche, I have to be me. Hopefully, there is someone out there who will appreciate that.

I am beneficial to your health.

It is well documented that people who have one or more pets have greater longevity and overall health than those without animal companions. I am an animal companion, so it only seems reasonable to deduce that I am beneficial to your health-- you just don't know it yet.

Blogoshpere, I need a home. Don't worry, I'm not about to hit you with images of us poor, lonely shelter animals; but it is high time someone recognize my splendid qualities, take me to a nice, quiet home--with a desk--and lavish on me the love, attention, and crunchies I crave.

In return for this, I can promise you the following:

1) I will never complain to you about my day.

2) I will not be remotely concerned about your personal affairs that are none of my business, ie: how much time you spend on Face Book, reality shows you watch, science experiments in your fridge, whether or not your ______ is/are natural, what kind of car you drive, or anything involving your personal credit and/or hygiene.  Give me food, shelter, care, and love (and a desk) and I don't care about the rest.

3) I will not bark at visitors.

4) I will not leave my socks on the floor, or toilet seat up.

5) I will keep my Reggae music at a reasonable volume.

Blogosphere, I don't mean to complain--but it is time for me to get out of this shelter. Don't get me wrong, they take good care of us, but my personal growth is being stifled. How can I try new foods surrounded by sandwich-munching nitwits? The radio station of my life is stuck on 'Easy Listeneng'. It's time for the next stage of my life to begin, Blogosphere. If you are my soul mate, please respond ASAP.

I told you!

Blogoshphere, did I call it?

Last week, I underwent I minor procedure-- don't worry, I am fine, and recovering well.  At any rate, my arch nemesis, Pablo, seized his opportunity to strike. Knowing my guard was down, as I recovered from the effects of anesthetic, he managed to extract from me the information necessary to invade my blog!

You may be wondering why I have not removed his post. Well, I believe it is proof that what I said previously was true. I do intend, however, to respond to this offense, point by point:

1) Pablo has no honour to defend.

2) He is evil-- hence the hacking. Furthermore, have you ever heard of anyone who speaks in the third person who wasn't evil?!

3) I make no contest to the point that Pablo loves nothing more than to eat-- you saw the photo.

4) I am neither fearful, nor insecure, nor certainly-- and it pains me to even type these ineloquent words--'a big smelly pants'.

Rest assured, Blogosphere, I have addressed the security concerns of my blog, and have no intention of letting down my guard again.

I hate to have to do this...

What can be done? I am Pablo. Pablo's honour must be defended, so Pablo has hacked Mike's blog.  Mike calls Pablo evil, but Pablo is not evil--Pablo is filled with the passion of life, and happens to also like desks.  Pablo would love nothing more than to eat, lie on a desk, and be loved--for Pablo loves love; but Mike has called Pablo out, and Pablo cannot stand by wile he is insulted. So friends, do not believe all that you read on this inter-web. Hear Pablo, that Pablo is not evil.  Perhaps Mike is just fearful, because Mike is insecure, as well as being a big smelly pants.

Why no bed for the fuller figured cat?

I think you see my point.

Everyone needs an antagonist

I know, I know, Blogoshpere, I have been most negligent in enlightening you with my thoughts, lately. Suffice it to say, I have been preoccupied. There's a new cat in town, and to quote my favourite film genre, this town ain't big enough for the both of us... literally. My nemesis comes in the form of--stop me if this sounds familiar--a very large-framed  tuxedo cat. Granted, he is long-haired, while my coat is trim and neat; but the fact remains that he--Pablo, they call him--is cramping my style.

Although I am not pleased with Pablo's arrival, I did have a moment of epiphany which gave me pause (no, not 'paws'--puns are beneath me.) It occurred to me, Blogoshpere, that every protagonist needs an antagonist. Every--dare I say--hero needs a nemesis. Far be it for me to upset the balance of the universe. And so, alas, though I do not celebrate his arrival, I humbly submit to the primordial dance of good and evil. Think about it. Where would Roy Hobbs (Robert Redford in The Natural) have been if not for a weird, gun-wielding seductress?... Okay, happily married to his high-school sweetheart, and enjoying major league success, but that's not a very good story. Where would Hamlet be without Claudius?  Sherlock Holmes without Professor Moriarty? Suerpman sans Lex Luthor? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid without the Bolivian Cavalry? I'll warrant, their lives may have progressed more peacefully, but where is the poetry in that?

I have yet to surmise in what way Pablo will plot against me, but I am certain he will. He is my antagonist. It is his raison d'etre. But rest assured, Blogoshpere, I am no shrinking violet.

By the way, if as you read this, you are trying and failing to figure out who is the evil archenemy in your plot, I have news: It's you.