If you’ve had enough family time and talking with relatives, did you ever think what your pets are saying about Thanksgiving? Listen in as ZeeZee, my Cocker, exchanges views with OG the cat (Orange Guy).
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OG: I’m spent, man.
Z: They were getting on my nerves.
Z: Everyone. I want my bedroom back.
O: Those big dudes used to live here, you know. They used to be kids.
Z: USED too. This is our house now. They’re all married and stuff.
O: Wait till they have kids.
Z: Don’t even go there. I bite kids, you know.
O: USED to bite kids, Fuzzface. You bite their kids and you’ll end up in the freezer, dude.
Z: I hate kids.
O: Well, change your dogitude, big guy. Words to live by: Eat the crap they drop, but DON’T BITE the brat.
Z: You’ve got a pawpoint, my friend.
O: I’m cool. It’s easier for me, dude. Kids walk in the door, I just hide on top of furniture. Sorry you can’t jump on the fridge with me. Tough luck being a dog, man.
O: They need to show off. Cook stuff out of books and stuff. You make out okay?
Z: Nah, mostly white-meat turkey. Some good potstick, though. She gives me the pots and plates when nobody’s looking.
O: Why the charade, dude? You get plates every night.
Z: One of the other chicks says the sight of a dog licking a plate makes her puke.
O: Speaking of puke, Snoop-Dog barfed that hairball right next to the stuffing. Awesome, man.
Z: They freaked!
O: Cat barf just looks like cat food. Actually, it kind of looked like the stuffing. What’s the big deal?
Z: It might be the noise he makes. And he really gets his whole body into it. You know, how it looks like he’s gonna throw up a cow or something.
O: Yeah. Speaking of gross-outs, those farts you had going during dessert were spectacular! You cleared the room, bro!
Z: It was those goat cheese-pumpkin empanadas. I should have stuck with meat.
O: Yeah, well, they need some stuff for the vegetarians, the gluten-frees, the vegans. Remember when everyone used to eat the same thing?
O: I never got that antibiotic-free thing. When did they put antibiotics on their food?
Z: No, you furbrain. They give the antibiotics to the chicken or the cow. Then you eat the drugged-out chicken. Not supposed to be good for you, man. Makes you resistant or something.
O: Yeah, well, I’m resistant to this holiday stuff. I’m not looking forward to Christmas.
Z: I wanted them to go out and do that early-shopping thing so we could scavenge the kitchen and rip into the garbage. No such luck.
O: That shopping on Turkey Day is for morons, dude. It’s like playing in traffic. You can get run over in a Walmart…by people trying to save two bucks on crap from China. Not cool, dude.
Z: Don’t say China, man. That’s the bad food place, right?
O: I guess so. It’s a scary world out there, dude. That’s why I feel safer hunting my own food. Then you KNOW it’s organic.
Z: Bringing in that Tufted Titmouse was NOT COOL, dude. In the middle of the party.
O: She caught it right away. You see that thing fly away? I didn’t hurt a feather. Just showing off.
Z: Yeah, well, they’re saying you’re grounded for a week. They locked the cat door.
Gotta say, I like snacking in your litter box, man.
Z: And that mouse you brought in! Did you see that thing climb up the bookcase? The chick with the sparkly shoes had a freak-out, man.
O: Yeah. I found that one in the basement while I was grounded. She saved that one, too. It wasn’t even limping! I’m losing my touch. Actually, I really don’t like to eat them. Don’t tell the other cats.
Z: You pulled something like that last Thanksgiving. It’s all the humans could talk about.
“He’s so sweet but he’s such a little killer.”
O: I shouldn’t show off so much.
Z: I don’t see why they’re so righteous. They ate a freaking dead turkey. Hypocrites.
O: That must make me a hip-o-cat!
Z: You’re so lame.
O: I don’t see you bringing home the bacon.
Z: I treed a fisher cat once.
O: Hey, thanks, man. That would have been the end of my bacon. How come it was scared of you?
Z: Must be my manly bark.
O: You don’t fool me.
Z: Yeah. The chicks also get a kick out of when I bite your head. They think it’s for real.
O: I COULD do without the slobber. You have terrible breath.
Z: I know. I need a dental. She’s been forgetting my oral rinse and Greenies. I like those suckers.
O: I do too. Sure makes you smell better. I have excellent teeth.
Z: You’re a cat!
O: Doesn’t matter. It’s genetic.
Z: Is that my problem?
O: Since you brought it up, yes it is. Cockers have a boat load of medical problems.
Z: Not me. I’m a pathetic sort from a puppy mill. Did you know my father’s a cock-a-poo?
O: Is that common knowledge?
Z: Nope. I pass as a Cocker. But check out this ultimate perm of mine. That’s the poodle in me.
O: You know, the Cocker people have a dirty word for your kind of coat.
O: So sensitive.
Z: You should talk. You are a domestic short hair. How NOT EXOTIC is that???
O: I’m cute, though. Just put my little paw up and Sparkly Shoes opens me up another can. I’ve got her number.
Z: Wait till she has kids. Then you’ll be history.
O: Yeah. Better enjoy these visiting Millenials before they start reproducing. Babies trump pets in the cuteness department, you know.
Z: I think Dr. Deb is partial to animal babies. And she’s the most important one. After all, she’s the one who feeds us 365/24/7.
O: Yeah. And she’s not ready to be a grandma yet. So what are you gonna do until next Thanksgiving?
Z: Sleep, play, eat, poop. You know. The usual.
O: Yeah. We’ve got the life. Sure hope they open that cat door soon, though.
Z: It’s cold out. Enjoy the fire.
O: Sleep tight, bro. She’s getting out the Christmas stuff.
Z: You too, man. Don’t eat the garland.
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