In honor of Mort Goldman's (assumed) six month birthday, I thought I would write a blog about him.
My quirky little kitty lives his life by a very specific list of rules that may seem more or less retarded to the average passerby.
Rules of Mort:
1. You may not touch me unless you are standing up.
2. It is my unwavering belief that human food tastes like poop.
3. If your toes come within five feet of the bed, they are fair game. I will attack as I see fit.
4.3 AM is the optimal play time for me.
5. I will only become cuddly while one person is in the house.
6. If two or more people are present, I will hide under the bed for two hours then proceed to sit as far away from the humans as possible. Do not attempt to touch me.
7. I maintain the right to sometimes forget who my owners are, thus become unbelievably frightened when a tall redhead enters the apartment.
8. If it rolls, it is fun.
9. I am often not sure of what I want. If this is the case, I will sit in a room of my choice and meow until you guess what it is that I want.
10. Anything round in shape that can be carried in my mouth must die a painful death of drowning in either the toilet or my water dish.
Mort’s law states that, “If it moves or can be considered new, I must encounter and watch it at least fifteen times before I know that it will not kill me.”