Dear George,

Last night we had another one of our “encounters”. A close encounter of the third kind, as far as I’m concerned. See what you were doing to me seemed more like preparation for deliverance to the mothership than any normal animal/terrestrial-being behavior.

Let me interject with a theory: All nighttime abductions/experiments attributed to aliens are in fact performed by cats.

Now like I’ve explained before, all your kneeding, hair-combing, sitting-on-my-chest behavior is highly unappreciated. But let’s address one singular move of yours that incites a special terror in my befuddled, half-asleep mind: when you purr fervently with your wet nose pressed behind my ear. This action of yours frightens me all the way back to 7th-grade science to retrieve the vocabulary needed to describe my fear: pinna.

Used in a sentence: Oh God, one chomp of George’s jaws and I’ll lose my pinna.

This fear is particularly unsettling as I hear how excited you are becoming with your purring and imagine all the other times such excitement has lead to “loving” cat bites.

Let us recall the Cat-Vampire incident of two nights ago.

photo copy So let me conclude with,


Or I shall have to report you to the  FBI and get Mulder and Scully on your ass.

Much love,


Dear George,

It’s awfully sweet that you like to sleep with me. However, I have been feeling for some time now that we need to establish a few ground rules.

  1. I have this concept of personal space. Two very important personal bubbles of mine encompass my eyeballs. I’d appreciate if you didn’t try to swat at them with your claws, or walk on them. I know it’s all fun and games, but someone’s gonna get hurt.
  2. Also my throat. I don’t really get this kneading thing that cats do, but most of the time if I’m under a proper cover of blankets I just let you do your thing, even if it feels an awful lot like a breast exam. I don’t question your motives. But I’m gonna have to draw the line at my throat, where you’ve nearly drawn several lines of blood. No more throat massages please.
  3. When you try to comb my hair with your claws, I don’t like that. I especially don’t like being woken up in this fashion at 3am. Maybe you’re a gay hairdressing cat, that’s fine (although then why all the breast exams?), but you need to ask for volunteers, not just select unconscious victims.
  4. My face is not your head rest. It’s kind of cute, the way you like to lie cheek to cheek, but inevitably it becomes back of furry head to smothered mouth and nose. That’s just not the way I want to die.
  5. When you get really close to my face and purrr directly into my mouth, it weirds me out. I’m not used to other peoples’ sounds going into my mouth. It’s not natural, and it makes me feel slightly violated.

That’s about it, only five little things. Do you think you can manage? In times of doubt just remember, don’t do unto others what you would have done unto you. Ie. no head scratchies, face massages, chin tickling, etc. Then we can both sleep soundly.

Much love,




I met a real LA cat last weekend. Not like, “yeahhh he’s a cool cat.” (To clarify in the unlikely event you thought I was a 40 yr-old goatee-sporting, beret-wearing beatnik) A literal cat that was so LA he couldn’t be described any other way . Let me explain…

#1. I’m pretty sure he’d had work done. Because really, can you get that level of pout without collagen injections?

image-2_2#2  He’ll only drink water out of a glass, in front of a mirror.

image-3_2#3. Then when he saw me taking a picture of him he immediately started his catwalk.

image-1image-2image-3image-4image-5image_2#4. Then he wanted free headshots.


I rest my case.


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