You're fine until they start talking back.

Cats don't need to speak to let you know you are an embarrassment to their dignity. Scoop my poo, human.

Eat, sleep, play. I want to be a cat.

You forgot "lick oneself".

Stiff upper lip and all that rot, lad. More time for golf, and with the U.S. Open this weekend, you should be fine.

P.S. "don't start not talking out loud"...does this mean you are afraid of how all this could effect your ability to communicate with the felines???(Double negative)

I tell her all the time.."Don't start not talking to me!" when she gets in a pout.

<p>It's what others might over hear. <p>Once, maybe 20 years ago, I was over at my buddy Bruce's house when I heard his father say my name as I passed a doorway. I went in saying "yes?" only to be told "oh...just telling the cat who you were."

I was thinking of a range of mean comments today ( connected to graphs, slides and self abuse)but then I relented.

It's odd - it's a relief to be on our own. We can eat what we like - read until late - not shave etc. But after a few days it gets dull and we miss them. Cats don't really do it - but dogs come close.

<p>But I say what <i>I</i> said with the nicest of intentions, Rob. <p>I thought the population shift graph worked. But I can't read the text on this one. Not the messenger or the message. Just the presentation. Pretty much.

At least with a cat, when they say, scoop my poo, human, you can choose when to scoop and when not to. With a dog, you have to follow them around with a paper under their bums less you get a big fat ticket and the hatred of your neighbors. And I have to admit, when you live alone and the cats talk to you, you talk back.

To scoop is clearly better than to stoop. The cats and I agree, don'cha boys. D'oh!

Sounds to me like a <i>Seinfield</i> episode where his comedy sketch involved space aliens observing dogs poop and humans bagging it as they walk (the good humans do this I might add). From this, the aliens have no doubt who actually runs the show on Earth.