Disclaimer: I do not own A1 Steak Sauce.

Thanks for the review! - OnceADreamer

More Rottweilers

Okay, Day 2 of my new life. Today morning, I awoke to the sounds of birds singing horrible ballads off-key. I was very dizzy this morning because of some unfortunate events last night. Ah, you're probably lost. Let me rewind:

It was 3:00AM. The Rottweilers decided that I was a clean and healthy cat so I was allowed to share a bed with the redhead (Redhead the little girl). Oh, by the way, I'm assigning codenames for every member of the family. Writing everything out is just too much work for my paws. So Redhead is the freckled face girl. And ermm…Muffin is the plump mother whose exercise tapes arrived in the mail today (not like it will help), but that's a different story. And I'll call the dad well…the father. Yes yes, alright moving on with the story. You know what? Let me start all over again. So you can get in the mood of things.

Ahem, it was 3AM. The Rottweilers decided that I was a clean and healthy cat so I was allowed to share a bed with the redhead. The bed was nice: plump and soft, just the way I like it. So there I am curled up beside the little girl dreaming happy dreams of ever-lasting beef when all of a sudden, I feel a jolt of pain near my bottom. The redhead kicked me. I give her one of my looks and generously scoot over a bit.

4AM. I am awaken once again by a flying object to my face. It was after the stars around my head had disappeared that I realized the redhead had slapped me. I sit up on the bed and stare back at her angrily. Does she know that she is abusing me? But she does not move one bit. By then, I was tired. Gorgeous cats like me need all the beauty sleep he can get. With a sigh of frustration, I decide to let the girl sleep. So I move all the way to the edge of the bed. After settling down on this new patch of mattress, I curled up in a little ball and drifted off to sleep.

7AM. I am in the middle of dreaming of mounds of beef right in front of me. In my dream, the beef is roasted to perfection with A1 Steak Sauce smothered all over its protein goodness. I lick my mouth. After figuring out the best rout to the top of this gi-normous mound, I prance up the steps of beef paradise. Just when I am at the top and ready to sink my teeth into pure bliss, the mound of beef collapses. I am falling…falling…falling…THUD!

It was then I realize where I am. I am sitting on the floor of the redhead's room. I glance up at the bed which I had fallen from. Apparently, the redhead had decided to kick me off the bed. That spoiled child! How much room does she need? Fine then! I don't need the bed anyway. I'll just leave with what's left of my dignity and find another cot.

I did. I found the couch.

Today was an interesting day. After my lovely breakfast in which my beef was served to me on a cute little tin and after I decided to forgive the redhead for her abusive actions during the course of the night, I met more of the Rottweiler family.

Unfortunately, it seems the Rottweiler family is made up of many uncles, aunts, and cousins—all of which are far more annoying than the Muffin, the Father, and the Redhead.

I believe it was a little after 12 that Uncle George, Aunt Patty, and the devil of a child Cousin Ginger came to visit. Uncle George is a big man. I suppose somewhere along the line, he is related to Muffin. Uncle George is also a very red man. Red faced with huge cheeks that bounce up and down when he laughs. Then there is Aunt Patty. She is the typical she-devil that I despise the most. She's the kind that never adopts any animals because she believes that we are…"unclean." And finally, there is Cousin Ginger: the 8 year old immature pest.

Things started off rocky and they continued to get worse throughout the day. At first glance at me, that wicked Aunt Patty dared to call me a "wild creature." Then she sprayed the whole damn house with chemicals that was supposed to suppress my revolting smell. What I don't understand is how she can say I'm stinky when her husband reeks of garlic and anchovies. Next, by mere chance, Uncle George decided to sit on the couch—my newfound territory. Because he couldn't have possibly seen over his huge belly, he sat on me. The experience cannot be described. But let me tell you, it was not pretty.

And then, the devil of a child, Ginger decided to play with me. She must've inherited the idiocy of her mother because she persisted to pull my tail. After several scratches did not worry her, she continued to pull my tail. The damage she has done to my purrrfect grooming I am ashamed to say. But let me tell you this, I shall not let any of this be uncounted for. Revenge is sweet my friends. MEOWRRRR!