Halloween. Oh, how I hate Halloween. The Humans talk about it for weeks before it comes around. “What am I going to wear?!” “Will people get it?” “Does this even make sense??” They put on these ridiculous costumes and go out. In public. Wearing the costumes. It’s just ludicrous. I would never disgrace myself by wearing such idiotic outfits. It’s just insane that one would make a fool of oneself intentionally.

And then the small Humans go out and accept candy from people. They walk around the neighborhood, all dressed up like a bunch of nincompoops, and accept candy from strangers. Aren’t children taught from a very young age to NOT do exactly that?? I suppose there’s a small difference, they aren’t accepting candy from stranger so much as demanding it. “Trick-or-treat!”- they shout. So what, if I don’t give you a treat, you’ll play a trick on me? I dare you, small Humans. I triple dog dare you. I am much faster and certainly much more clever than you are, so try me. I’ll give you a treat. With my claws.

And then, on top of everything, sometimes the Humans try to make me wear a costume. Are you serious? You want me to dress up as a cat hot dog (I understand the irony) or a cat goblin? Please, I refuse to succumb to your immaturity. The Humans have tried to make me wear a costume twice now, only to have their efforts almost immediately thwarted. As I said before, I don’t do costumes. This may take some more serious action on my part to convey my message. I’m thinking shredding their costumes and leaving them on their bed would get the message across.

Now, if I could somehow finagle it so that The Other One has to wear a costume and I don’t, that would be extremely pleasing. Getting that little turd to wear a costume for a few minutes would make my entire year. Maybe dress him up as Pocahontas? Or something that requires a wig and some face paint? Muahaha. Your move Other One, your move.


Well, Fall is finally upon us. Thank God. I deplore Summer. Do you know what it’s like to sit around all day with a full coat of fur? It’s not pleasant I assure you. And the Humans decided to forgo getting air conditioning for yet another summer, those bozos. I’ve been trying to give them subtle hints for the last two summers: drinking water excessively, taking extra long naps and trying to look as tired as possible when I wake up, meowing them awake at 2 am, which is really the only time it’s cool enough to play in this sweatbox. I even tried licking myself bald in some places, not only to get their attention, but also to cool off specific parts of my body. No dice. These people, I swear, they just don’t pick up on signals at all. Maybe I’ll write them a mysterious message tonight on the chalkboard in the kitchen: “GET A/C YOU MOFOS”. That should send the message pretty clearly.

But seriously, I’m very glad it’s Fall. Fall really is the best time of year for us cats; it’s endless entertainment. All the leaves falling outside are like little creatures to watch and chase all day long. It’s the last chance I’ll get to attack those damn squirrels that come running along the front porch. And by attack, I mean watch from a window and make odd, stuttering noises at. Did I mention that I’m looking forward to the cooler weather as well? Soon it will even be cold, which means it’s time for the mysterious Warmth to make its appearance. The Warmth only comes from certain places of the house. It’s absolutely terrifying when it happens. It makes a noise and shoots out a strange warm air from these giant holes in the floor, but boy does it feel great. Side note, I’m just dying to get into those holes. But that’s for another day.

Now it’s time to enjoy Fall. Really not sure why anyone calls it that, these Humans say the darndest things.

Get your Gato Life shirts for Fall: etsy.com/shop/gatolife

Medicine Woman

The Humans took me to that horrible woman this week. The one who pokes and prods at me, turns me upside down, forces my mouth open and examines every crevice I have. It’s almost like she is looking for something terrible. What could possibly be wrong with me? I am in peak physical condition. I exercise for exactly ten minutes a day, chasing that glorious pink furry mouse on a stick around. I eat a normal amount of the dried food they give me (except on the wonderful occasion when I can sneak in a good lick from a tuna can here and there). And I sleep the rest of the day, which is usually somewhere around 18-20 hours a day. So please explain to me why this woman thinks something is wrong with me? She says I need “dental work”. What is “dental work”? It sounds like some sort of devil practice if you ask me. She says I need my “vaccines” again. It’s almost like she’s making up words.

And what kills me is the fact that the Humans listen to her! They force me to see her once or twice a year– she’s basically a stranger. And then they heed her advice! What is she, some kind of doctor? Don’t be ridiculous. A real doctor would never look at me and insist that I need medical assistance of any kind. I’m gorgeous and extremely fit. She’s obviously a hack.

Now when she says similar things about the Other One, I of course believe her. He needs “dental work”. He needs “vaccines”. It was positively thrilling when she said he needed to lose weight. I’ve been telling him for months that he’s morbidly obese. I’ve put him on my strict exercise and dried food regime, to no avail. That clown eats more than anyone I’ve ever seen. If he wants a svelte tail or perfectly chiseled calves like me, he’s got a long way to go. But alas, you can only help those who want to be helped.

So I’m going to continue with my regime until the next time I am stuffed into that tiny carrier that smells like a dead rabbit and forced to see that maniacal hypochondriac. And if she ever tries to tell the Humans that I am overweight, I’ll deadlift her right then and there to prove her wrong. Fools.


Wednesday Wisdom

Wednesday Wisdom from Señor Gato. Today’s wisdom: A spider a day keeps the Humans happy. Seriously. They love it when I eat the spiders that find their way into the house. The Other One has yet to pick up on this, which gives me a strong advantage. Anytime one of those sneaky, delicious creatures comes wandering in, I find a way to make a point of how I’m ridding the house of the pests. I find them, I play with them, and then I consume them. It’s a great party trick.

Just this morning, The Other One found a spider on the windowsill. He was playing with it a bit, not really understanding that the whole point is to show the Humans that you’re doing them a favor. Being the savvy cat I am, I waited patiently under the window on solid ground. The moment The Other One dropped the spider to the floor, I pounced on it, gently placed it in my mouth, and brought it over to the Humans as they were eating breakfast. I dropped it on the table in front of their food. Once they realized I had a spider in my mouth and was earning my keep, I ate it ceremoniously in front of them. They applauded me; they sang my praises; I even got a few treats. It makes them feel like I’m doing my part for the household.

And it’s not just spiders. The Humans are appreciative of any small creatures I manage to kill: beetles, flies, bees. Well I tried to catch a bee one time, but those crazy things have stingers. And wings. What an evolutionary advantage. My personal favorite however remains the spiders. Catching something that has twice as many legs as me and can spin a web overnight is quite the badge of honor in my opinion. And there’s always the risk that it’s poisonous, but that would guarantee that I live on far past my physical life on this planet. “Here lies Señor Gato. He kept us safe, even at his great peril.” Come one, what an epitaph. Plus that would be a great way to snuff it.

The Other One seriously needs to acquire a valuable skill in order to prove he is worthy of staying here as well. Maybe his Wednesday Wisdom is “Acquire A Skill”. I’ll give him the memo.

National What Day?

It’s National Dog Day. Ugh. Just what those ridiculously simple creatures need, another reason to be spoiled and worshipped by their Humans. Did you know that dogs have the lowest common sense of the domesticated animals? That’s a fact. They allow themselves to be trained. You heard me: trained. They’ll shake your hand on command for a treat the size of one of my claws. They even sit or go away when told do so by their Humans. Such primitive beings.

We cats are far above such elementary acts. I would never, ever, under any circumstance, put any Human in a position of power. I will never respond to anything on command. You know what does do that? Voice activated phones. You know what else does that? Dogs. You know what else dogs do? They chase their own tails. Because they think it’s a separate entity from their body. Tut tut.

Another thing that baffles me is how dogs wait for their owners to come home. They just sit by the door, sometimes for hours at a time and just stare at it. As if just wishing for something to happen is enough. I know the precise schedules of my Humans, down to the minute. And if they stray from their schedule, you know what I do? I don’t care. I take a nap. Or I eat. I mean it’s a win win really. Then when they do make it home, I allow them to pet me.

Do you know what obedience does to the relationship between animal and Human? It leads the Humans to believe we belong to them. As if we could belong to anyone. Ha! No, no. Dogs, while they’re blindly affectionate and almost impossibly loyal, are not nearly as evolved as the cat. The Humans have to learn to love us. And that, my friends, gives us all the control.


My name is Senor Gato. I am a cat. And a very wise one at that. I live with two Humans, whose names I have’t bothered to learn. We’ll just call them He-Human and She-Human. It is a good life I have, I must admit. Like most cats, I eat, sleep, and force my Humans to play with me at inopportune times.

Unfortunately, I am not the only four-legged creature who lives here. There is another. His name is… must I stoop so low as to utter his name? Let’s just call him He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. No one’s ever coined that term, right?

I’d like to think I’m the Commander-in-Chief here. I have far more control than the humans realize. Everything they do is determined by my own actions, although I’m too sly for them to realize that. When it’s time for them to get up, I go into their room and gently, but with conviction, meow them awake. When it’s time for them to feed me, I run around the kitchen, just so they can see how much energy I’m burning up and remember to feed me. When I want them to let me out, I meow incessantly by the back door. I’m still working on this, as they have yet to let me outside, but I will find a way…

And then there’s He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Fine– his name is “Iggy” if you must know. He’s cute, but he’s got a lot to learn. Like how to feign a furball cough up to get their immediate attention, or how to bite the Humans just hard enough so that your teeth are maintained appropriately sharpened but you aren’t actually hurting the Humans. It’s an acquired skill.

I’ll be teaching him a lot in the future; I have a lot of wisdom to impart. Hopefully he knows how to read.