"My Ordeal"
by special guest blogger, Ainsley Lambert

This day began like any other - I awoke as the long-haired human tried to push me off her face. I keep hoping that she will come to realize that I need to stretch out on both pillows on the bed to be comfortable, but she is adamant about putting her head there every night. It was kind of early for them (the humans) to be getting up, but I was willing to let this interruption of my usual schedule slide because I was hungry. Those two-legged bastards had taken the food and water away last night before I had my post-dinner-late-evening snack. I had decided before bed that I would knock over the bathroom trashcan and leave a trail of chewed-up Q-Tips in the hall as a warning to them.

I politely told the long-haired one that I was hungry; "Goddamn it, I'm hungry and I want some food now, bitch." Still, she didn't put out the chow. I scavenged a bit in the kitchen, but they have added a locking lid to the trashcan, and there weren't any dishes on the counter to lick. My ire grew. I decided to tip over the trashcan by the computer too, just to let them know that I'm sick of this crap, and I mean business.

I stretched, then wandered into the bathroom, where the big, short-haired human was floating in water again. He does this every day, sometimes more than once. I watched for a while, but when it became evident that he wasn't going to drown, I moved on. I hate him.

I did my usual workout with the elastic mouse on the door frame - today I worked on my double front paw attacks. I've been hitting the gym pretty hard lately, and I'll soon be ready to challenge Primus (also known as 'Tons-o-fun') for the top spot around here. I caught Hazel checking me out as I was finishing up. She was looking pretty hot this morning... she's started to shed that "little kitten" look and put on some womanly curves. She ignored me, but I know she digs me. I can tell. I can't wait for her "Auntie Flo" to visit... This pussy is gonna' get a little pussy, yo. Dat's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

The long-haired one came and picked me up - I was figuring I'd let her give me a bit of a belly rub before going around to the scratching mat to sharpen up for the day. I didn't see that damn harness in her other hand. I restrained my normal and quite justified urge to go all medieval on her ass (I could kill her if I wanted to...), and soon I was strapped up like a pain piggie at a fetish ball. I hate her.

I was about to go unroll all the toilet paper in protest when I saw that they were strapping Hazel up too. She was definitely tasty in her pink nylon harness - dude, I love a chick in bondage gear... I was just coming over to get my swerve on, when the two-legs scooped us both up and took us out to the car.

I yelled at Primus (fucking lunchbox) to help us. He just smiled - "See you later, Stud." He emphasized that word in an odd way, then waddled his fat, ball-less ass up the hallway, laughing to himself. I hate him.

It gets a bit hazy for me at this point... I remember there was a cold steel cage, and then some blonde two-leg came and stabbed me in the shoulder. I hate her. I felt all fuzzy and floppy - well, that's normal for me, but more so - and then everything went dark.

I woke up feeling worse than any catnip hangover I've ever had. My eyes wouldn't focus and my coordination was fucked. I lolled about on the cold steel floor of the cage for an indeterminate time, and then the same bitch that stabbed me came and fondled me. Now I'm not the kind of guy to complain about getting my nuts rubbed, but it fucking hurt! Something was drastically wrong down there. Once she let me go I took a quick look.

I don't know how to describe it... something was... they were... were... MISSING! I layed back down and closed my eyes. "This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not fucking happening..." I looked again - to add insult to injury, the sick fuckers had actually shaved me too! I passed out from the drugs; or maybe I just fainted, I can't say. The next thing I knew, my humans were there to take me and Hazel home. The long-haired one was fussing over me, and the big one was laughing at how stoned we looked. I hate him.

As we pulled into the driveway, Primus (that tubby bitch) was sitting in the window, all fat and smug. I wanted to rush him and kick his ass all the way across the living room, but right then I was doing good to even stand. That bastard knew what was going to happen, and he didn't even try to help! God damn I hate him.

I hope you two-legs realize that this calls for an act of feline terrorism on an epic fucking scale. As soon as I can stand up without crying, you two are so gonna' pay. I'm gonna' go Compton on your asses, and do a kitty drive-by. If you think the time I ate the cord on your headphones was bad, just wait...