Life of Riley

Ha! My monkeys left the computer unguarded again. Silly monkeys. I took the opportunity to check in on a few of my brethren and sistren in the Cat underground.

Caveat Lector | Good morning, housemonkey

Didi came in for her morning trample bright—well, dark and early this morning. Yawning, I got up to feed her, and check in by IM with a friend of mine in Australia.

Turning on the light, I discovered that one of them hurled on my winter cloak. Good morning, housemonkey! Isn’t it a lovely morning!

Good work, Didi! I commend you. I myself have had a few opportunities to hurl. I was unable to find a coat, but I did have a go at the living room rug (the nice soft one) again.

I was irked that my monkeywoman took my fishing pole toy away from me, so later on I left her a couple of messages in the front hall place. She had foolishly left my toy out on the counter, and then both monkeys went out into the place where the noisy moving boxes live. So I jumped up and captured the mouse that is somehow invisibly attached to the fishing pole, and took it toward the kitchen.

Suddenly, the fishing pole was chasing me! It wanted the mouse back! I ran up the little stairs and the pole stopped, but then I couldn’t keep going with the mouse.

So I stopped and chewed at the almost-invisible string and snapped it. The fishing pole stopped chasing me and the mouse.

In fact, the way the string coiled up begged for further investigation and attack, so I chewed it into several pieces.

Then the monkeylady came back and made very surprised sounds. She
tried to pick up all the pieces of string and she put the fishing pole away in the cupboard, but she didn’t know I saved some pieces for later, and left them for her to find when I hurled some messages in the hall. Ha.

The mouse is now completely mine and I carry it around as is my right. My mouse now.

She’ll have to get something else to attach to that fishing pole thing, but I bet she won’t leave it out where I can get to it again.

PARIS - Emily the cat is heading home, in style. The wayward tabby from Wisconsin who disappeared two months ago and wound up traveling across the Atlantic to France boarded a Continental Airlines flight Thursday — in business class.

- Emily, the Stowaway Cat, Is Coming Home - AP

Oh cat, I’m sure glad Emily’s situation got straightened out. I was kind of in that situation a while ago … lost, not really knowing where I was going, but I’m OK now (the brief stay in that ‘detention’ center was kind of a pain) … and soon Emily will be too.

Although I have to wonder what France would be like … I hear they eat a lot of fish.

… not to leave their computers on!

I FINALLY got down into the underground part of the ‘home’ building … and found all manner of computers lying around.

I choose one that looked important … and found a user and password written on a piece of paper. I don’t know who this ‘root’ monkey is, but they sure have a lot of power.

A few clicks of the mouse (not very tasty, for some reason) and I’ve got my own website!

Ho, hum, the monkeys were here yesterday for a while, but then they went away. For some reason, my monkeylady fed me again after my monkeyman had already given me my dinner. They took some food away with them, but didn’t bring any back when they returned hours later. I think they went somewhere and gobbled a lot of food and felt guilty and gave me extra. It must be some mysterious monkey holiday.

Whatever. I’m going to take a nap.

The last few weeks have flown by in a happy blur. My monkeys - in fact, I now think of them as “my beloved monkeys,” have gone to great lengths to make me comfortable. Recently, they have bought new toys and invented new games to keep me entertained and healthy. I am especially fond of “Sock Jail” and “Whack-A-Mouse,” and also now have two special sleeping beds of my very own. One of them I hated until they turned it on its side, whereby it became perfectly acceptable. The other one is a very upscale leather hammock in the monkey’s wall-watching room. I enjoy my hammock very much, especially when the monkeys toss some of the foam balls in. Oh! Oh! That makes me so enjoyably KA-RAY-ZEEE! Oh! Oh! Gettitgettitgettit! Oh…

You must pardon me, I become quite excitable when in the throes of an attack of playfulness. A strange thing about that leather hammock was that the woman monkey didn’t seem to want me to use it at first. She kept sweeping it out and appeared concerned. I had no problem with it at all, although the previous tenants left behind a number of bits of wood and bark and so on. Apparently it had another use before my reign began.

Mine now, though. It’s all mine now.

I even have a special radio program to enjoy while the monkeys are away from the little building. This makes my days less dull, though truth be told, I sleep most of the time anyway. It’s called DogCatRadio.com
and it’s all right, but actually I prefer it when they leave NPR on all day. I like to remain informed.

Yes, my domain is run along the lines I laid down from the very beginning: regular meals, clean water, plenty of places to hide, plenty of places to sleep, and of course much petting and accolades from the monkeys, my populace. I take my duties seriously and in exchange for all their offerings and tributes, I give them approving head- and body-bumps and luxuriate in being petted. Also they seem to find my enthusiasm for our games and toys entertaining - sometimes they completely forget to watch the wall and focus on my activities.

Which, after all, is as it should be. I must say that my overall health and fitness are much improved since my arrival - I seem to be much stronger and have much more energy for play. I remember feeling very small and very scared and not being able to play much at all, but that was a long time ago.

It’s good to be Cat, of course. It’s good to be Cat of such an appreciative and affectionate and generous pair of monkeys.

Whew. First of all, I’m fine. My monkeylady stuck me in a carrier today and we drove for a long time. I continually begged to be let out and for us to go back to the little building, but the world just kept moving around us.

Eventually, we got to this big, noisy echoing place that was absolutely full of dogs (yuck). They kept coming up to my little cage and sniffing at me. Finally, my monkey moved so her hind legs were in front of the cage, and that was better. After along wait, we went in a little room, and they let me out of the cage. The table I was on smelt of wet dogs (yuck).

After an even longer wait, during which I eventually relaxed and played with the catnip pillow thing, a very young male monkey came in. He felt me all over, looked in my ears, and looked at my teeth. I was horrified! I thought once again that I was being turned back in to the prison system! However, after my monkey and the doctor monkey chattered for a while, I was invited to re-enter my cage, which was an improvement.

And then we left, high-dee-ho, and we’re back again in the little building.

The fuzzy one came back from somewhere and petting and playing ensued. So it seems my little excursion today was no big deal.

It’s good to be “home.”

My day yesterday was wonderful and also a little frightening. For some reason the woman monkey didn’t make a big noise and go away in the morning. She went around the little building we all live in, putting things away and generally making it look much less interesting, with fewer things to scatter or knock over.

Eventually, she settled down on the couch with a little flat computer. I know about those from my brief career as a Web celebrity, you see.

A monkey man’s voice chattered senselessly on and on; it was coming out of the big loud-box but there were no pictures of moving monkeys on the front of it. Weird. Occasionally she chattered back to the loud-box, as if the senseless man-monkey was in there or something. She did not chatter in the special warm tone she and the fuzzy one reserve for “talking” to me.

Anyway, that got boring after a while, so I curled up next to her and was petted and occasionally held while she drank some stuff that she made with hot water. It didn’t smell good, but that’s monkeys for you - they’re inscrutable sometimes.

It’s hard to describe things when you’re completely happy and contented. Somehow it’s easier to describe horrible scary things. So just take it as read that I’m indescribably happy.

My monkeylady then played a new game with me, which I’m going to call “STRING!! ATTACK!!1!!” which was very enjoyable. Basically, she walks around with a long piece of string trailing after her, and I stalk and chase and kill it over and over. Sometimes the string goes very fast so I ran and caught up with it. This activity was somewhat tiring but I went very fast anyway, which seemed to make my monkeylady happy. She encouraged me in this activity until finally I signalled that it was concluded by plopping down and sneezing.

Not long after that, 2 more monkey ladies came in the door! I ran so fast and hid behind the “sofa” in the “living room.” I thought they were caremonkeys, come to take me back to prison, or to some other jail.

I peeked warily at them. “o nononono!” I thought. “you’ll never take me alive, monkeys!”

However, after a bit of soft chatter with the one I think of as “MY” monkey, they all went to different parts of the little building and started doing things. It sounded and smelled like when my old cell used to be cleaned.

I came out of my refuge and dared one of them to try and capture me, but “my” monkey just laughed at me and picked me up and petted me. So it was a false alarm. Ho, hum, I went back and napped for a while and tried to ignore the horrible rumpus that was going on all over.

Then the two new monkeyladies left, and it was just my own monkey and me. More cuddling and petting. I felt much, much better. Then we played Sock and “STRING!!1!” some more and I felt even better.

The fuzzy one got home and we all had our dinners - mine is served in attractive bowls, much nicer than I’ve ever had. I must try not to knock them over.

More petting ensued. The fuzzy one likes head-bumps a lot, so I indulged him. He’s funny.

Then he and I played a game of “Get Out, Red Spot,” which is another new favorite. I cannot for the life of me figure out how that little red spot can move so fast, and why I can never seem to get my paws on it.

A while after that, the fuzzy one got out my MOST FAVORITE NEW FUN TOY EVARRR.

It was a mouse on a stick. When he flicked the stick, the mouse flew away, then mysteriously crept back toward the fuzzy one. This was irresistable. I threw myself into the game with great abandon. The monkeys hooted in that way they do when they’re entertained.

Then the fuzzy one let the mouse dangle above my head, just out of reach. I batted it briskly with my paw, and it came back around and hit me in the head. Outrageous! So I batted it right back, and it did the same thing from the other direction. It was time for me to FREAK OUT, whirling around and batting away, and still the mouse came back for more! Insolent little rodent.

The monkeys appeared to be having convulsions or something, so I stopped. They petted me and seemed to be assuring me that they were all right and they hoped I was enjoying my epic battle with the mouse.

Truth be told, I was.

There was more cuddling and so on before sleeptime, and again more cuddling this morning when they awakened which is now our settled routine. I do enjoy that so much.

However, because I suspected the monkeys were actually laughing at me last night and not having convulsions at all, I left them a little present on one of the soft green sit-things downstairs.

That’ll teach them to laugh at Riley. They must be taught to respect my authority.

The monkeys have both been sticking this thing my face. Then I get online and play with the “mouse” thing and there I am, famous or something.

Well, at least I’m good looking enough to handle the adulation.

The last few days have been pretty rapturous; I hardly ever feel scared and the monkeys keep finding new ways to pet me and cuddle me. The catnip supply seems to be endless. Also, they’re feeding me some rather tasty dishes, and it’s obvious that they wish me to grow stronger and more active.

I’ll show them active some night. However, they are such wonderful monkeys that I really doubt there will be any reason for Cat punishment/training methods to be used.

Actually, my secret was discovered the first night. I adore them. I love, love, love them. My monkeys. I love twining myself about their hind legs. I love curling up next to them. Sometimes I just fall over “plop” right on top of them, knowing that they’ll pet me and cuddle me and chatter softly to me.

The thing they keep sticking in my face is a minor annoyance, next to all that.

What a day. Where to begin?

It was another long, boring, crappy day in my little metal cell with the picture window. Some more of the big monkeys came by. One of them came when I was trying to get some shut-eye and try to ignore the monkeys.

Then it was dinner time - the monkeys that cleaned out our cells came in as usual, cleaning each cell one at a time and letting us prisoners out for a little precious “freedom.” While I was waiting for my turn, the one monkey that’s been hanging around a lot lately came by and looked at me in my humiliating little cell.

I ignored her. I always felt it was best not to encourage them. But she kept hanging around, jabbering to the other monkeys.

And then she came in the guard room. One of the other cats finished his “freedom” time and suddenly they were opening up my cell again. Which was pretty damn weird, if you ask me. I steeled myself for another humiliating rejection. Best to reject first, if you ask me.

Then another monkey, a furry-faced one, came into the guard room. They opened my cell door and waited for me to step out, rather than grabbing me and slobbering over me right away.

Well. That was something; they let me come out on my own, in a dignified and gentlecatly manner.

Then, of course, the inevitable holding. This I endured, although it was not too unpleasant. I ducked my head under her foreleg, not wishing them to see that I was frightened. After a bit, I was placed carefully on the carpeted shelf we prisoners were allowed to use for our daily exercise periods. That was better; I rested, tried not to make eye contact with the female monkey, and awaited developments.

Both monkeys seemed very interested… it’s very strange… in me. I hardly dared hope.

They stroked my fur and chattered in their gibberish, but softly. This continued long enough that I allowed myself to enjoy it. They stroked behind my ears and oh! it was like heaven, or somewhere I’d never been that I had no words to express. They stroked my jaw and under my chin, and almost before I realized it, I had begun to purr.

Then they went away, and back in my cell I went. Oh, well. Humiliations galore for me again.

But the female monkey continued to loiter in the outer area of our prison. Some of the dog prisoners were being trained in their special area and were making an unholy racket. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the way the monkeys touched me.

Then, just before the time when the monkeys all go away and leave us alone for the night, the lady monkey and the furry monkey were still out there, doing their bizarre monkey business, which seems to involve gibberish, flat sheets of that paper stuff like the one that was attached to my cell, and wandering around gathering up stuff from other parts of the prison.

They came back loaded down with stuff, and a cardboard box. Hmm. That was interesting.

Then the monkey that cares for me some nights came and got me out of my cell again, and took away my cell pad.

And this is the weirdest part of all: the monkeys came in quietly and got out the big bag of catnip. Man! I can’t resist that stuff, I must be addicted or something. I came out, reluctantly, from one of the carpeted hidey-holes they provided for the prisoners’ “amusement.”

And then the caremonkey picked me up and put me in the cardboard box.

I’m not a large gentlecat, but it wasn’t that big a box. It had a soft thing down in the bottom of it that smelled of the new lady monkey, but there was a lot of my favorite stash of catnip sprinkled in there, too. And a big pillow shaped thing that smelled of more catnip. So that made the first moments of shock and outrage a little more bearable.

The next thing I knew, I was shut up in the box, being carried out into the night. I hadn’t smelled fresh air, let alone the scent of rain, in so long! I hoped I wasn’t about to be evicted, because frankly I’ve had about enough of being outside in my young life. And some stupid monkey sometime deprived me of my lovely front-knives, so fisticuffs for me are for show only. So I can’t really defend myself out in The Wild. Then my box and I were put in a larger, smellier box and then the world moved around us. The monkey lady kept up a constant chatter, repeating my name constantly.

Wow. Just wow. I was freaked, but determined to show no fear. Dignity, always dignity is my watchword.

Then the monkey lady spoke a few words of Cat to me - a dialect I didn’t recognize, but it seemed to be a friendly greeting.

I replied, tentatively. “Please, just get me out of this box.”

After a short time, really, we arrived… somewhere. Another noisy self-propelled monkeybox arrived soon after, and the furry monkey got out. We all went inside the little building together.

It was warm. The lights were on, but it didn’t smell like the prison or of other prisoners. They fussed around with some of the items they brought with them, and then at last the box was opened and I was invited to exit.

It was frightening, yet definitely intriguing. I immediately set about checking the perimeter. What was this place? Who were these monkeys? What was all this stuff? Could I get under it or behind it?

They moved about, quietly. The obviously did not wish to alarm me.

The monkeylady remained nearby and made friendly noises in a sort of Cat jargon or pidgin. I investigated my way around the edges of several large rooms. The colors and textures (and the quiet! The blessed quiet!) were soothing. Nevertheless, I indicated that I was still on my guard.

Things went on like this for a short time. I was shown the facilities and where I might make my toilette should I feel the need. The fear began to lessen.

The monkeys ate some of their food. The monkey lady got the catnip pillow out and a little ball and indicated that I was the owner.

That seemed quite in order, so I indulged in my drug of choice for a bit. Then the monkey lady indicated that I would be welcome should I desire to join her on the soft green sitting bench the monkeys had in one of the rooms. I assented.

Then something very odd and miraculous and wonderful happened. For a moment, I was in that heaven place again, or that other place that I didn’t really remember. I think it was called “home” and suddenly it seemed to me that after a very long and lonely and terrifying and hungry time, I was there again. I curled up against the monkeylady’s leg and just reveled in the luxury. She and the furry one petted me endlessly.

It must have been the catnip. I was sure of it; but the exploring and investigating and the petting and so forth went on all evening. Almost in spite of my self-imposed monastic reserve, I began to follow the monkeys around, brushing against their hind legs and offering all the pent-up affection I’ve been holding back for so long.

Oh, it’s been quite a day. And I’m feeling a little tired out from all the excitement of the last few hours, after so many weeks of fear and tedium. But I can already tell that it’s going to be a wonderful life for me here. And, I think, no need for any jailbreaks or escape plans for this gentlecat. These monkeys seem to really want me here. What a head trip that is, even more than a giant stash of kind kitty herb.

Anyway, the monkey lady took a picture of me in my little cell - this was before I was all that into her, frankly. And that’s the first day in the brand new life of Riley.

[yawn] And now, I think perhaps a head-butt and bed. More later if the monkey lady leaves her computer logged in.