It’s Zaturday, the day we (Ziggy and Zorro) take over Mommy’s blog.
Zorro here. Mommy told us an interesting story this week. A long, long time ago, before Ziggy and I were even born (Mommy says 1868), British Post Office cats started getting a weekly salary. They even got a raise later. Their job was to catch mice.
I think paying cats is a great a great idea. Ziggy and I are trying to think of things we can do to make money. There aren’t many mice to catch, but I help Mommy write by laying in her lap. When she gets stuck and has to think about something, she reaches down and pets me. She says that helps get her going again.
Ziggy sometimes helps, too. He walks on Mommy’s computer and adds things to what she’s doing. Mommy doesn’t seem to like it, though, so he must not be doing it right. He would probably need some training before he could get paid.
If Ziggy and I got a paycheck, it would be fun picking out things to buy. We wouldn’t need to spend any of our money on food, like Mommy and Daddy do, because they buy us lots of good kitty food.
We wouldn’t have to spend it on litter, either, because we always have plenty of that. And Mommy scoops the box several times a day, so it stays pretty clean. We don’t need comfy places to sleep, either, because Mommy and Daddy always let us sleep on the bed.
Maybe toys. Although, we have some pretty fun toys, too. There’s the red one with the scratchy thing in the middle and the ball that goes ‘round and ‘round. And the toy lizard that looks real.
At Aunt Kim’s house, we have a long fuzzy thing on a stick that Mommy shakes. It’s so much fun to chase.
We even have a kitty condo with perches to lie on, hidey holes to sleep in and posts to scratch on.
Hmm, I can’t think of anything we could buy with our money. Mommy and Daddy already give us everything we want.
So maybe we don’t need to be paid after all.
Zorro is pretty weird. I don’t understand some of the things he likes to play with. Like the paper coming out of the printer. It doesn’t matter where he is in the house. When he hears it start up, I’d better get out of the way, because he’ll just about run me over getting to it.
But what really makes this toy the bomb is when Mommy or Daddy sprinkle catnip into the cardboard stuff. Aaaah, maaannn! Cats are supposed to act proud and independent. Cool and collected. Disinterested. But something about that stuff just makes us lose all dignity. I can’t resist it. Zorro can’t, either.
Wait. Daddy just got a plastic bag out of the drawer. Is it…I think it’s…yes! It is! Outa my way, Zorro!