Current mood:

thoughtful

We've been trying to update our repetoire of Sounds of Displeasure, as whining seems to be losing its efficacy (although I have gained a sustained-note length that would give an amateur opera singer envy). The term that seems to be used most often by The Bald One and several visitors is "Harrumph", so my brother and I have been practicing to try and break the language barrier.

I've managed to develop an audible "Hmf!" which I think carries a good deal of disdain I am attempting to convey regarding the lack of gooshy food, pettings, and adorations in the 24-hour manner that we, as cats, inherently deserve. My brother, on the other hand, has only managed a loud "WHUFF!" that he seems to think will suffice. I've pointed out to him repeatedly that he sounds like an asthmatic terrier, not a put-upon feline, but he has disregarded my opinion and continues to *whuff* proudly at the humans, the furniture, the carpets. I despair at trying to teach him the point of this exercise. The small silver lining to his idiocy is he's managed to keep Mom in a state of frazzled nerves, thinking that he is about to launch a hairball in a remote room. So at least I'm getting some entertainment out of the situation.

I'm pondering starting up a diction class for other cats in similarly untenable circumstances. As torturous as the thought is, I'm sure there are other felines out there who are also subjected to dry food, nail trimmings, vet visits, and generally not being treated like the gods-on-earth that we are.