Dear Diary, Ugly is back and it had the nerve to show up during the daylight. This one is definitely not some starving critter who wandered in because of starvation or the inability to find food. This ugly is fat, well-fed, and a thief. Looks like the big dog is going to have to go to work again. Boris doesn't hurt the big rats he goes after. He's like a big stun gun -- as soon as Boris is unleashed at the critter, he shoots out like a bullet that whizzes over the back of ugly. Ugly rolls a bit, curling up in a ball as it goes. Then my lady's man takes the critter & puts it in a barrel. Eventually, the barrel goes on a truck and is driven away. When the truck comes back the barrel is empty and ugly is gone. It never fails, though, another ugly will soon show it's face. Ugly never leaves forever.

Dear Diary, A cat can't get any peace in this house. Here I am, minding my own business, studying up on how to cook a turkey, and my lady comes into the kitchen with the camera, laughing like a crazed hen. Really, if she'd cook decent meals around here, I wouldn't have to bother with learning how to do this. That canned food she feeds us lacks the proper texture of real meat. I know the humans eat real meat. A turkey would be just the right thing to fix for the seven of us felines. We out number them. Why should they be in charge. If she'd leave me alone long enough I get this task mastered so we can have a feast.

Dear Diary, The weather outside had better turn warm soon as I'm quite tired of being the Cinderfella cat. It's just not right that I'm stuck getting the dishwasher going while Morgan hides out in the construction zone and primps. Don't humans have laws against cat labor? If they don't, they very well should have. And you wonder why I chase Morgan so much. Well, wouldn't you? She sits around acting like some little prissy while I do all the work. And then she has the nerve to growl at me. She deserves every chasing I give her. Matter of fact, as soon as I get done with the dishwasher, I think I'll give her another chasing. That is, if she ever gets out of that corner.

Dear Diary, My human has been hogging my blogging machine lately. All the while, she's been mumbling stuff about numbers and how she hates them. Whatever numbers are, I hope she doesn't give them to me. Having fleas a few months back was bad enough.

Strange things happen when one is cooped up in the house for a long period of time. Since the big dog Boris has been without a mate, he's been becoming more friendly with Osiris. Osiris consoles him when he is feeling down and they nap together. This is part of why Osiris is my hero. Of the seven of us cats that live in the house, he is the only one who can, or dares to, hug the dog. The rest of us keep our distance. He has big teeth and just looks like something a cat should stay away from.