Clearing some common misunderstandings! aka. I AM NOT FAT!

Hello.

I. Am. Upset.

People do not take me serious. Everyone makes fun of me. All the time.
So now I will have to put some things clear:

1. I am not fat, I am well-furred.
2. I do not run like a walrus, I run very cutely.
3. I do not wobble, there just aren't bras for cat bellies.
4. I do not eat too much, I get too little food.
5. I do not have a boy's face, I have distinctive outlines.
6. I am not a spastic, I just sometimes lose control of my neck-muscles.

Did we sort that out now, yes?
Well, that is great. Lately I have been accused of all of the above several times. People enjoy it most, when they can draw a comparison with Phoebe at the same time. Phoebe is petite. Phoebe runs svelte like a gazelle. Phoebe is so muscular. Phoebe only eats tiny bits of food. Phoebe has a cute little face. Phoebe never shakes her head weirdly. Phoebe...pfffffffff.

And as if that all was not yet enough, Mommy has left us alone all day. She went to grandma and spare-grandpa and dug around in their garden. I don't know what a garden is, is it like a litter box? Whatever... there was no food all day and nobody to clean our litter boxes.
Then it stroke me! Mommy can never find a job! We would always be foodless from the morning to the evening! Maybe I should start writing emails after Mommy has send applications and spread some rumors about her. "Don't hire her, she never gives her cats enough food." Maybe... I don't know. Might be too mean. "Ruska is so mean. Phoebe is so nice. Mömömömööööblalaaaablablaa." Pff.

Also, I was very happy that the drawing of me looked much better than the drawing of Phoebe. I am so pretty, one has to be able to draw me perfectly. Unfortunately, Mommy started drawing other pictures. She drew our sister Lotta who passed away and Daddy with our brother Mutteri and granny Minttu and then a dog. And I don't want to admit it, but they all look much better than me. I mean, than my drawing. Nobody looks better than me.

Maybe I should learn how to draw.
That would be quite sensational.

Mommy also got a new Bob-book. I am excited. I watched the cover of it for quite a while. There is a picture of Bob on it. Such a handsome cat. I wonder if he would agree on going on a date with me? *blush*


-Ruska

I'M FAMEOWS!

Humans! Humans!
Sensational news!
I made it!
I am famous!
I am an internationally known cat!

Someone wrote a SONG about me!
ABOUT ME! There is no doubt!
The song is called Ruska. I am called Ruska.

I want to thank Mommy and Daddy and Phoebe!
And Grandma and Paule and the Burrito friend of Mommy, cause they always believed in me.
Thanks also to Tardar Sauce, the Grumpy Cat, and Bob, the Streetcat, for being my inspirations.
Also, everyone else. Thank you.
I am deeply touched.

Here is the song about me.

Mommy and Phoebe are jealous. I think.
I told them right away when I found out. They weren't even excited. Can you believe it?
They looked at each other and at me and at each other and Phoebe asked Mommy if "they should tell me".
Ah, what can one do?
There will be always enviers.

Doors and hearts and Saturdays!

After reading about Bob, but still not having any job, Mommy thought about that we should write a book, not a blog. She could be our producer and we would write it and get a lot of money. Unfortunately there would not be enough people buying it, most likely. After all cats don't have any real education or degree, nobody would believe a book written by cats could be any good. Well, on the other hand, I think most cats would not be able to indeed. It takes a bit to be as eloquent as me and Phoebe, not to brag or anything, but... you know.
So probably we don't write a book. I am still moping, because nobody asked for my autograph, so why would I entertain you with a book anyways? Pfff.

I started enjoying Saturdays, by the way. Saturdays are a great thing. Last Saturday proved it... we got two times yummy food. First some exquisite pate and then chicken hearts. They were fun to carry around and stuff.... unfortunately Mommy didn't like the idea of me carrying hearts through the flat for God knows what reason, so we had to stay in the kitchen eating with a shut door.

Shut doors is another thing... I don't like shut doors, you know? You can't see what's behind them! For a long time I was not sure if there is a bedroom existing in the new flat. There were more rooms when we arrived as there are know, if that sounds any bit logical. But it is true.
We found out why: the door is closed. Sometimes Daddy would carry us in there, so we could have a look around, but we were not allowed to walk. There is a big pile of interesting things and boxes and bags and blankets and it would be a lot of fun to dive in there and have a look around... I really wonder why we can't walk around. On one day the door was open and Mommy and Daddy took the pile apart and looked into boxes. Phoebe was jumping around between the boxes and made Mommy laugh, because there was always just a lot of stuff and Phoebe's head sticking out of it. I can see the comicality in that. Phoebe likes to stick her head out of things. Or her tail. Like in Daddy's birthdaygiftbox. But that's another story...
So anyways, Phoebe had fun jumping, exploring and sticking her head places.
I was not so sure about the situation. After all, we were usually not allowed in there. And Daddy called my name in a very weird way.... like they usually call my name when we have to go to the grim reaper or in the boxes or into another country... or something. It HAD to be a trap. I could feel it in my whiskers.
Too bad it turned out it was no trap, as Phoebe came back in one piece, all excited without having been in the box, at the grim reaper's or in another country. Rats! Missed out on all the fun. It could be years until the door opens again. Oh, well.

I'll go wait for the door to open.

-Ruska


P.S.: I need dis.

 

P.P.S: Dis too.

P.P.P.S: With a lift, so I don't have to climb up, that'd be exhausting.

P.P.P.P.S: This blog is lacking readers. What am I doing this for? Tell your friends!

P.P.P.P.P.S: Bob, will you marry me?

A Street Cat Named Bob

...that's the name of a book.
The book is about a cat.
The cat is called Bob.

Mommy bought the book the other day and her and Ruska are obsessed with it. Today she read it out loud to Ruska. Ruska cuddled up next to her purring and then started complaining when Mommy stopped reading loud. I would like to hear the story, too, but it is so exhausting to sit still. So I rather run around.
Mommy bought the book in English, because she said it is a story that happened in real life and maybe it is nicer to read the original words that Bob's owner wrote, not the translated version. And also that maybe Daddy might wanna read it. Daddy doesn't. He doesn't like sitting still either probably.
But Mommy and Ruska are a little different. Mommy says the book is amazing and the Daddy of Bob is a great human being and everyone should read the book.
Ruska says she wants to marry Bob, because he is so handsome and she has a crush on him.
I think you should probably read the book if you have not read it and can sit still. And if you like books. Or if you like cats. Or also otherwise.

Here is the book with a picture of Bob. So you won't miss it in the bookshop!

Today was devil day. I sensed that already yesterday so I got the idea I could help out a little. Mommy is always a bit annoyed on devil day, because she has to put things off the floor before she can devil and there are usually many things. So I decided to tidy up some of my toys. Ruska said, tidying up is if you can not see them anymore, so I started putting them into Mommy's shoes. You could not see them anymore, so they were tidied up. Mommy laughed and took a picture of it.
Really, I don't get humans. I wanted to help. I was serious!

So tidy!

Today after the deviling she had opened the kitchen window. I didn't realize it at first but it got windy suddenly and it usually isn't windy in our flat so I thought something might be different. It was. The window was open. Mommy usually doesn't open it, because she thinks I might jump out. She might be right. So she let me stick out my head a bit, but she always kept her hands near. I just tried to step onto the frame of the window, just to see a bit better, but she immediately took me away. Boring.

Breeze!

It was Pizza Perjantai today. That means Pizza Friday. I never quite got what pizza is, but today Mommy said we can have pizza Friday as well and now I know what pizza is - it is tuna fish! Why don't humans just call it tuna fish? You're really strange sometimes.

Ruska and me eating pizza!

-Phoebe