Ziva? Ziva? Are you napping?
Ummmm…really? You’re kidding, right?
Well, wake up. Mom wants us to write a post for her. She’s busy decompressing during her vacation and would rather sit on the couch, watch daytime TV and eat a cupcake.
Oh. Are cupcakes good?
I’ve heard they are good, but the humans never offer one. All I get is beef, chicken and smoked salmon. And an occasional cat treat.
Ohhhhhh…I love the salmon. You can keep everything else, just give me kibble, treats and smoked salmon. Yum. Anyhow, what are we supposed to write about? We don’t do anything exciting, especially since it’s winter and there are no birds outside the window.
We could tell everyone what we got for Christmas.
Okay, you go first.
Santa brought me a new box. I love my new box. It’s very comfortable, which makes it a great place for a nap.
The box is for both of us, but Gibbs hogs it.
I do not.
Not. Besides, you have your own box, a red cushion by the heat register, and a basket with a fluffy blanket. It’s not like you’re deprived. Quit whining and continue.
Santa brought me a new pillow for my head.
Ziva! That’s a catnip banana toy.
I know it’s catnip. It’s also very comfortable.
The banana toy is for both of us, but you’ve been keeping it for yourself.
Not. Besides, there are four catnip toys laying around in the living room. All you do is lick them until they are soggy, beat them up for a while, then ignore them for days…sometimes weeks.
So, what else are we going to talk about?
How about how handsome I am…I am, I am?
What? M-R thinks I’m handsome. So does mom and the curly red-haired girl that comes to visit.
You take yourself and the pandering compliments too seriously.
Not. If I take myself too seriously, then I wouldn’t respond to Mr. Blister or Jester or Naughty Boy.
You are all of those things.
Yeah? Then what are you?
Beautiful and adorable.
No, I’m a girl and a cute one at that.
Now who’s taking themselves too seriously? Your head is getting bigger than your rotund belly.
Gibbs! It is not.
Not. My head is the normal size of any other royal Queen, as is my belly.
Yeah, just don’t let anyone touch that belly or else!
Well, a girl has to protect her vulnerability.
I suppose. That’s okay, I’ll take all the belly rubs you refuse.
Whatever. What else can we tell the peeps out there? I’m running out of material and ready for a nap.
I could tell them the color of my poop.
I could mimic the sound of your snoring.
I could tell them about our other Christmas gift – the mouse at the end of a wire, attached to a pole. I could tell them how I chase the mouse around the room and how you catch the mouse, firmly hold it in your mouth and won’t let go.
I shouldn’t do that, makes my fangs hurt.
I could tell them.
No, that’s somewhat embarrasing.
Okay, I could show them how to chew on an artificial Christmas tree.
Absolutely not…there may be small, impressionable kittens reading.
Well, then I’ve got nothing else.
Me neither. How do we end this post?
We say goodbye, turn out the light, and go back to sleep.
That’s it? I’m not sure I believe you.
Yes, Ziva, it is…
Originally posted here.
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