Two Cats’ New Year’s Resolutions (as recorded by the third cat)

Once again on my way to the coffee pot this morning, I found some sheets of yellow paper covered in Chavez’s distinctive paw-scrawl. Looking closer I noted that the sheets were labeled “Cats’ New Year’s Resolutions,” but even though three cats live in our home, only two lists were there—one signed “Frida,” the other signed “El Che.” Since neither Frida nor El Che have indicated either a desire or the ability to learn their alphabet, much less write, I immediately suspected foul play.

Coffee is always more important than any kitty cat shenanigans, so I ground and brewed and drank my necessary potion of wakefulness. Then, curious as any cat lover, I read the list presumably signed by Frida. Here it is with necessary corrections and translations for the average human reader to understand:

1. I will stop bothering Chavez unless I have first bothered El Che and gotten (here the list uses an inappropriate cat phrase which can best be translated on a family site as “my butt kicked”).

2. I will play with my toys instead of stealing my brothers’ toys.

3. I will share my toys with Chavez.

4. I will share my toys with El Che if he asks politely and gives me a good grooming first.

5. I will let Chavez have the first bite of any tuna or soft food that Mommy gives us.

6. I will also let Chavez have one half of any kitty treats that are given to me by Mommy or any other servant who has the privilege of caring for us.

7. I will fight El Che if he annoys Chavez.

8. I will not try to distract Mommy from giving Chavez attention.

9. I will groom Chavez as often and as long as he requests.

10. I concede that Chavez is the best, most important cat in the household and Mommy is right to love him the most.

Oh, brother! I groaned before moving on to the next list. I found myself wishing for the “good old days” when cats settled territorial disputes with paw swipes, bites, and the occasional marking of territory. I picked up the next list, noticing a few claw scratches through the script. Apparently El Che was onto his brother’s antics. It could turn out to be an interesting year in this feline fraternity.

1. I hereby forfeit the right to sit on any piece of furniture more than two and one-half feet off the ground, thereby giving Chavez full right to perches more than two and one-half feet high.

2. I will give up my addiction to catnip and hereby grant all extra catnip left in the household to my elder brother, Chavez.

3. I will strive to rid myself of halitosis by carefully chewing the tarter control treats Santa brought me.

4. I will also learn to floss.

5. I will keep my nails trimmed and neat so that if it is necessary to fend off my annoying little sister, I will do her no bodily harm.

6. I will lose one pound and 12 ounces by controlling myself at the food dish.

7. I will let Chavez have the first bite of any tuna or soft food that Mommy gives us.

8. I promise to never again cry or have a panic attack if Mommy gives Chavez more attention than she gives to me.

9. I will groom Chavez as often and as long as he requests.

10. I concede that Chavez is the . . . (Here the paper is clawed and torn so that I couldn’t read the rest of the statement, but I can only assume El Che’s list ends exactly as Frida’s.)

Like any good mother, I could see through this ruse immediately. Chavez has used his writing skills to concoct a plan by which he will take over the household. Heaven help us if he proceeds to take over the world as well—or even just our corner of the Kansas City metro!

Currently Chavez is spending some quality time in the dog house (It’s actually just a kennel, but it works.) pondering over his own list of new year’s resolutions. I gave him a place to start: I will use my powers for good and not for evil. Time will tell if he will be any more capable of keeping his new year’s resolutions than my human friends are.