Raven diary #26: Another Catapaloosa

Dear diary,

Raven here.

Summer Catapaloosa has been a HUGE success folks. Millions of all you cats and kittens came and for five days and nights, we partied our boodies off playing games like Pin the Ears on the Kitty Cat and Cat Cat Dog. However, if it hadn’t been for the human trying to feed me, we would’ve had a WAY better time. Even with our sign that clearly said FELINES ONLY, the human just strode on in like nothing was wrong.

Little did she know that we had a plan. The second the human walked in, we all jumped on top of her with a vigorous “MRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  But no matter how many times we try to shoo this human away, she kept coming back with that bowl of food that none of us needed one bit. We had to devise a cleverer plan.

“Cats. Kittens. Follow me,” I meow purrrrrrrrsistantly. “We need to talk.”

I lead all of you to the human’s basement, where we can discuss this matter in private. The basement is dark and pretty much empty. There’s a bed, a tall plant and a small window. Nothing much.

“Felines,” I say in a serious tone, putting my paws on my hips. “We have much to discuss. We’re just trying to have a fun Catapaloosa, and a human is invading it. We need a plan. Anyone have ideas?”

Lollipop raises his paw.

“Yes. Lolli?”

“We could make a pile of toys next to the door,” Lolli pipes up. “That way, she’ll fall and not make it in.”

“She’d certainly fall,” I remark. “But she’d probably still make it in. Any other suggestions.”

Harold raises a paw.

“Yes. Harold.”

“We could build one of those electric fences,” Harold meows excitedly. “Like they have for dogs but in this case, for a human?”

“Yes Harold! That’s a purrrrrrfect idea!” I yowl in excitement. “Come on cats and kittens. Lets go!”

We race to the front yard and get to work. We gather our materials and start building the first EVER invisible electric fence for a human that only pets could penetrate.

“Quick. Here she comes,” I whisper just as we’re putting the finishing touches on the trap. “Hide!”

We all dash to a hiding spot as the human turns around the bend into our trap, my food in her hand. The trap makes a loud BZZZZT and suddenly appears as a red web. The human lets out a shriek and jumps back in surprise as my kibble drops, spilling some on the ground. Then, she carefully walks around our trap, surveying it closely with a “Hmmmmm.”

It turns out that in our hurry, we forgot to seal all the gaps. The human finds an opening and walks through, back into the house. After fending her off again with a “MROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW,” it’s clear we need to make some renovations to this fence.

After trying all we can to get this human out of our way, it’s clear there’s only one more way to do this. Eat the food the human has given us. But only some of it. We all eat a share of the treats. We put the rest of the treats into the blue bowl and using all our feline strength, we haul the bowl into a room in the basement and under the bed. We make sure to hide it really good.

“That human won’t have a CLUE what hit her,” Honeytoast purrs, sniggering.

“Oh no. She certainly won’t,” I laugh.

“She won’t suspect a thing,” my old friend George yowls with excitement.

About 5 minutes later, the human walks in the livingroom.

“Quick! Everyone hide,” I whisper.

We all take our places as the human wanders the house. We hear her say “Hmm. Looks like Raven finally ate. That’s good.”

Then she walks out of the house and locks the door. We all whoop and cheer in excitement and for five days and nights, we partied until my humans came home in their huge white van house thingy.