I am a short-haired spooky representative full of sass. If you
are wondering about the spooky part....it’s me. I spook
easily.
Likes
Thoroughly enjoy hissing at the vet, especially the vet tech
handler
Yowling and playing with my turtle when no one is looking
Love to pester people that are clearly allergic to felines
Leaving my turtle in absurd and random places
Demanding food, respectively
Chicken pâté (must be pâté)
Dislikes
Coffee grinders before breakfast, but during breakfast is
acceptable
I strongly dislike pedi pedis and do not enjoy the “spa”
experience
Loud noises (....this is a civilized household)
Strangers and people standing
The vet
Hobbies
Ripping hair out of my tail (drives my human crazy 😈)
Observing my kingdom from above
Eating chicken pâté
Napping
Portrait Gallery
of Diesel
It's me!
My favorite place
My morning existential crisis
My honorary turtle in another random location
My afternoon nap
My evening lap nap
Turtle Naptime
Staring down a human
BECAUSE I CAN
No explanation needed
About
My Background
I was born. You’re welcome. My story begins with a situation of
miscommunication. My former humans had the audacity to bring home a puppy.
Said humans clearly didn’t understand, I hate dogs. They soon came to
understand my loathery for the canine species, which unfortunately, did
not work in my favor. They described me as, “not getting along the dog”
and then, they dumped me into an animal shelter. I was housed in a Petco
in Baltimore, Maryland for 4 months. It was quite a bore. Soon I took up
the self-appointed position of front door security guard. During my 4
month tenture, I was a celebrity among the volunteers and staff. What can
I say? I’m a fluffy feline god. My position was taken from me when my
human adopted me. C'est la vie. It started off great. We dwelled in the
city, I watched daily commuters from the window. I even saw a hit-and-run,
very exciting....except the loud noise. Rude. I digress...The city life
was perfect. Until we moved to the suburbs...that was when I first
encountered the trash truck. It was a big, green, mean-looking machine. I
dislike it to this day. The suburbs may have more animals to watch, but
far less commuters and firetrucks to watch. *le sigh* That all being said,
the human is tolerable and there is no dog in the picture which is the
best part of our arrangement.
Daily Diary
At the first sound of dawn, I alert the household of my empty bowl
situation. It really is a terrible sight to see first thing in the
morning. After what the human refer to as “bitching” (I prefer describing
it as requesting with authority), I eat my decadent chicken paté. I spend
many mornings sleeping in my luxurious bed seated upon a cedar chest. It
is one of my favorite pastimes. My other petit joie de vivre is
overlooking my kingdom from the second floor window. As you can imagine, I
keep a close eye on any dogs passing by my territory. It is preeminent
task to watch them like a hawk. In times of feeling mischevious, I like to
sneak into the forbidden basement to poledance on a carpeted pipe. I may
or may not have been repeatedly told the pipe was not my scratch post. But
I do what I want, despite my human’s wishes. 😈
