Happy Third Gotcha Day to Me

Well surprise surprise, my 3rd Gotcha Day came and went without mention.  Yep, dad forgot, and the only reason it's brought up now is because mom had to remind him.  Like I said, surprise surprise.  Anyway, somewhere around February 20th or so marks three years since I took over this household. Well, not this particular household exactly since we've moved several times, but you know what I mean. This is me waaaay back then, a 13 year old, 15-ish pound youngster.And here I am today, a 16 year old- 13 or so pounds- oldster.  Amazing how much I've changed over three years, isn't it?

 Yeah, I know.  The diet thing hasn't gone as well as they'd like. Oh, they try, they really do.  Anyway, It's been 3 years with these two, and I've grown into a part of the family.  I often hear one or the other of them say I'm like a little person.  Like a child to them.
When we're both home Cleo doesn't like- unless she's asleep, of course- to be left out.  She always wants to be where we are, like she's missing out on something.  The other night we were in the bathroom, her mom dressing a wound on my leg as I sat on the tub's edge.  I smiled and nudged mom, pointing toward the mostly-closed bathroom door where a little paw was reaching around the corner, trying to nudge the door open.  If we're in another room, talking, she often comes in, announces her presence and looks at us as if to say "So what are you guys talking about?"
What can I say?  As much as we have our little, umm, disagreements now and then, I don't like being left out.  Is that a crime?  Didn't think so.  Just love me, dammit.
For all her attitude Cleo's mom and I can't even imagine our life without her.  This couple has formed a threesome with a furry being who's by turns an annoying, needy child and a crotchety old spinster who must always be the center of attention.
Show of hands, please: who thinks this is a problem?  I don't see anything wrong with it, so we're good.

Dinner's on Me

Every once in a while mom and dad eat their dinner in the living room so they can watch a movie or something while eating.  As you are no doubt well aware, I get first dibs on the laps around here, and often I have to fight for lap space.  In the morning it's no problem as I'm used to sharing dad with only a book or the laptop, and his coffee.  This outrage, however, I should not have to tolerate.  I love mom and all, but I WAS HERE FIRST!

I swear, the way I'm treated around here sometimes...

Early Morning Chin Scritches

I love chin scritches (most of the time), and here I'm enjoying some, squeezed in next to dad, my right ear against his, umm, convex breadbasket, shall we say?  Now and then I get annoyed with dad's various pawing, patting and petting and, well, this happens:

Bad girl, I know.  You humans know how, when you get annoyed or reach your limit with something, you act out.  Well this is how I acted out one morning recently.  Dad is making me say that he was only patting my head and back, and the wrist of his other hand just happened to be right under my chin.  Most of the time I'll gently do the bitey thing, with my teeth just touching his skin.  He goes all "Cleo, no!", which usually makes me pull away and bow my head in shame.  Well, this time, for whatever reason, my ears heard him but my mouth didn't obey my ears.  My top fangs gouged his wrist at the top, and my bottom ones dug in a little at the bottom.  I'd apologize, but I don't feel like it.