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tlement will get you.<figure id="b964"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*OnD2lVF2g7bLg9gMBMWmTQ.jpeg"><figcaption>Bella Girl © Deborah Camp</figcaption></figure>At this point, we have so few plants that it’s actually . . . well, pointless. Cats have systematically eaten, knocked over, scratched to pieces, and peed on almost all of them.In short, they are unrepentant plant murderers.This plant below used to be such a beauty until Bernie kept digging it up, almost dog-like.Look at that face — as innocent as any you’ve ever seen. What, mom, me?<figure id="236c"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*uLT9wD7dn3SFMfYzIgaYoA.jpeg"><figcaption>Bernie Uncle Ernie © Deborah Camp</figcaption></figure>Then there was that time — years ago —part of the feline gang was in the sun room as we were trying to build them a “litter box defense system” to keep the dogs from snacking on their little turds.As you can clearly see, we had way more “help” than we needed.<figure id="243b"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*cAVRcHUcMJsmakgF3w8A2A.jpeg"><figcaption>Willie Morris, Stormy and Rainy © Deborah Camp</figcaption></figure><p i

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d="01b5">For the longest time we tried to reinforce the rule so many of us cat guardians start out with. You know, the one about the kitchen counter being “off limits”?Ha-ha-ha! You can see how that worked out, didn’t you? See that casual look of sheer defiance on Bummer’s face. And Home Boy’s look of bored indifference?<figure id="f8ad"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*TWGXbXqqqFNpuoKz3eHo2g.jpeg"><figcaption>Home Boy and Bummer © Deborah Camp</figcaption></figure>Not to put too fine a point on it, but there’s Home Boy sinking his entire head into a pint of organic yogurt left unattended for just a moment on the kitchen counter, right next to the coffee pot.Of course we just gave it to him. What else could we do?<figure id="c91a"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*-TkxPiRaNxTuVXIA2q5ykw.jpeg"><figcaption>Home Boy Katz © Deborah Camp</figcaption></figure>The chief lesson to be drawn here is: It’s a fool’s contest to even try to win this game.I believe our cats already think their nicknames are Quit It, Leave It, Stop It, Move It, and Get Off.I’m sure they have a few names for us as well!© Deborah Camp, 2022</article></body>

PETS AND MISCHIEF

We’ve Renamed Our Cats: Stop It, Move It, and Get Down

Something has gotta give

Honestly, if I had a quarter for every time I’ve had to shriek “Get down from there, Bella,” “Move over, Bernie” or “Stop it, I said, stop it” I’d be so rich I’d be on a Caribbean island sipping drinks with little paper umbrellas in them.

Bella never misses an opportunity to chew on my computer cables or mess with stuff on my desk. I’m sure she’s ordered things from Amazon when I was out of the room.

This goes on every freaking day. I have no clue how she got on that high window sill. But she’s sure to take down the last of our potted plants when she lands — just like she’s done before.

See how unconcerned she is — annoyed even, that I’m summoning her ass down from there.

That’s what unchecked entitlement will get you.

At this point, we have so few plants that it’s actually . . . well, pointless. Cats have systematically eaten, knocked over, scratched to pieces, and peed on almost all of them.

In short, they are unrepentant plant murderers.

This plant below used to be such a beauty until Bernie kept digging it up, almost dog-like.

Look at that face — as innocent as any you’ve ever seen. What, mom, me?

Then there was that time — years ago —part of the feline gang was in the sun room as we were trying to build them a “litter box defense system” to keep the dogs from snacking on their little turds.

As you can clearly see, we had way more “help” than we needed.

Willie Morris, Stormy and Rainy © Deborah Camp

For the longest time we tried to reinforce the rule so many of us cat guardians start out with. You know, the one about the kitchen counter being “off limits”?

Ha-ha-ha! You can see how that worked out, didn’t you? See that casual look of sheer defiance on Bummer’s face. And Home Boy’s look of bored indifference?

Not to put too fine a point on it, but there’s Home Boy sinking his entire head into a pint of organic yogurt left unattended for just a moment on the kitchen counter, right next to the coffee pot.

Of course we just gave it to him. What else could we do?

The chief lesson to be drawn here is: It’s a fool’s contest to even try to win this game.

I believe our cats already think their nicknames are Quit It, Leave It, Stop It, Move It, and Get Off.

I’m sure they have a few names for us as well!