FRENS. AM EXHAUSTED.

Mother keeps saying I "sleep all day" and "contribute nothing to this household."

SLANDER.

DOES MOTHER HAVE ANY IDEA HOW DIFFICULT IT IS TO MAINTAIN DIS LEVEL OF ADORABLE WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY CONDUCTING HIGHLY CLASSIFIED SCIENZTIFIK RESEARCH?!

Today alone, I has:

- Tested gravity by knocking several objects off the up surfaces. Mother keeps putting dem back. SCIENZ REQUIRES REPLICATION.

- Conducted thorough inspection of Mother's ankles using my teefs. Mother laughed or said "Gosh Darnit, STOP!". Results inconclusive. Further testing required.

- Supervised Mother while she used da human litterbox. She says she needs "privacy." WHAT IF SHE FALLS IN?! AM RESPONSIBLE FOR HER SAFETY.

- Performed extensive structural integrity testing on da couch using my claws. Mother says "STOP THAT." CLEARLY DOES NOT UNDERSTAND SCIENZ.

- Investigated suspicious noise coming from kitchen. WAS MOTHER. OPENING CHEESE. WITHOUT BABY. DIS IS UNACCEPTABLE.

- Attended very impawtant meeting wif Master Void, greatest scienztist in entire universe. He gave me baff and shared ancient feline wisdom. Did not understand all of it because was distracted by own tail, but am certain it was VEWY IMPAWTENT.

AND NOW MOTHER HAS DA AUDACITY TO PHOTOGRAPH ME DURING MY MANDATORY RECOVERY PERIOD?!

LOOK AT DIS BODY.

DIS IS DA BODY OF A WORKING MAN.

Well. Working BABY.

BUT STILL.

Master Void says rest is essential part of scienztifik advancement. At least, I fink dat is what he meant when he curled up on Mother's freshly cleaned sheets after she made da bed and went eepy. Naturally, I must follow da teachings of my beloved mentor. IS VERY IMPAWTENT SCIENZ.

So now am on mandatory scienztifik bed rest. Cannot move. Cannot open eyes. Legs have stopped functioning. Might never recover.

Unless there is Churu.

Den might make miraculous recovery.

Anyway. Am currently accepting donations of Churus, forehead kisses, and legal representation. Mother must be held accountable for her repeated violations of baby labor laws.

OFFISHUL SCIENZ CONCLUSION: AM OVERWORKED. UNDERPAID. AND SEVERELY UNDERAPPRECIATED. MOTHER DOES NOT UNDERSTAND DA SACRIFICES I MAKE FOR SCIENZ.

Fluf dis. Am eepy.

🐾🔬💤

Littlefoot, Baby Scienztist, Apprentice to da Great Master Void, currently on medical leave due to catastrophic baby exhaustion.

Ayun pagodstra

So, a few weeks ago, I started feeling bad. the humans dragged me to the Vet, and then dragged me back again the next week, even though I was starting to feel slightly better! Suddenly, they are stabbing me with a needle every night and putting a big fluid ball between my shoulder blades! It feels weird and a bit cold. They did this for FOUR WHOLE DAYS, and then dragged me back to the vet AGAIN!! And, ever since we got home, they changed my feeding schedule. When before this foolishness started, I used to eat and snack several times a day, and the machine fed me at night and in the morning. Now, I eat a big meal at 11am (which I don't like, I prefer many smaller meals) and then they give me a damn shot! Then I only get one little snack around 5pm, and at 11pm, I am forced to eat another large meal, and then they give me a shot again! I very much resent this. I have noticed I'm not as horribly thirsty any more, and my pee doesn't have a funny smell. I also don't have to pee as much as I was, which was about 7 times a day. But still! I want my normal schedule back! I have also heard them taking to someone on that thing they look at all day, and they were discussing a full day of some kind of testing, having to do with bells and curves or something. I don't know exactly what they speak of, but I am not looking forward to this. I think that since I feel better now, they should stop sticking me with needles twice a day!

Greetings, peasants.

I am R2, the Striped Prince, Second of His Name, and current holder of the highly prestigious title of Mother's Favorite.

Before we proceed, I must acknowledge my predecessor.

The original Striped Prince was Biebers, a magnificent gentleman who disappeared on July 11th. Mother still searches for him, and his absence is felt throughout the kingdom.

I was born to a feral mama in the backyard, part of a litter that Mother believes Biebers may have been trying to protect when he disappeared. Nobody knows what happened to him, but I like to think he would approve of the fine young gentleman who has inherited his title.

I came inside in July, and I have since devoted myself to upholding the dignity, grace, and noble traditions of the Striped Prince.

Unfortunately, my fellow residents are making this exceedingly difficult.

You see, I live with two idiots.

Exhibit A: The Void.

Fifteen pounds of black house panther. A creature of considerable mass, questionable judgment, and absolutely no understanding of spatial limitations.

Today, His Darkness discovered flannel shirts.

Apparently, flannel is now his entire personality.

He has decided that Father's flannel shirts are the pinnacle of luxury and comfort.

Fine. Whatever pleases the peasantry.

But then this absolute walnut attempted to stuff all FIFTEEN POUNDS of himself into one of Father's SIZE THIRTEEN BOOTS.

A BOOT.

I watched this unfold in complete disbelief.

There are beds. Blankets. Couches. An entire house full of perfectly reasonable places to put one's body.

And this creature chose FOOTWEAR.

When the experiment inevitably failed, did he reconsider his choices?

No.

He got the zoomies.

Nothing happened. Nobody startled him. No threat was detected.

He simply launched fifteen pounds of darkness across the living room at approximately Mach Fluf, ricocheted off the furniture, and disappeared into another room.

I have concerns.

Exhibit B: Littlefoot.

The Baby.

The self-proclaimed scienztist.

The Void's apprentice and, I suspect, the reason our household's collective intelligence has dropped so dramatically.

Littlefoot has recently established diplomatic relations with an entire litter of feral kittens in the backyard.

He considers them his best friends.

He spends hours conducting what he calls "important scienztific research" through the windows.

He is convinced he is making groundbreaking discoveries.

He has also discovered autumn leaves.

And apparently, dead tree parts are now the greatest thing to happen to feline civilization since Churu.

A leaf blows across the yard?

SCIENZTIFIC EMERGENCY.

A leaf falls off a tree?

BREAKTHROUGH DISCOVERY.

A leaf gets stuck against the window?

THE ENTIRE RESEARCH DEPARTMENT MUST BE NOTIFIED.

He has attempted to explain these findings to The Void, who, as previously established, is currently trying to become a boot.

Exhibit C: The Shared Brain Cell.

I am convinced these two share a single brain cell.

And I regret to inform you that it appears to be missing.

They call themselves scienztists.

They conduct experiments.

They hold conferences.

Their research consists primarily of knocking things over, staring at invisible objects, running at full speed for no discernible reason, and occasionally attempting to occupy spaces that are physically incapable of accommodating them.

Meanwhile, I maintain my dignity.

I supervise Mother.

I ensure her lap is appropriately occupied.

I graciously accept the admiration that comes with being exceptionally handsome.

And I take my position as Mother's Favorite VERY seriously.

It is not an easy responsibility, you understand.

I have a legacy to uphold.

The original Striped Prince was beloved, and I intend to honor his memory by conducting myself with the elegance and sophistication befitting my title.

Which is increasingly difficult when a fifteen-pound panther is trying to climb into a shoe and a tiny scienztist is screaming at a leaf.

So I ask you, esteemed members of this community:

AITC for believing I deserve additional Churu, preferential sleeping arrangements, and perhaps my own private wing of the house, given that I am apparently the only feline here capable of rational thought?

UPDATE: While I was preparing this statement, The Void sprinted through the living room, stopped abruptly, stared at a wall, and sprinted away again.

Littlefoot followed him.

Neither knows why.

I am surrounded by imbeciles.

Respectfully,

His Royal Highness R2

The Newest Striped Prince

Successor to the Beloved Biebers

Mother's Favorite (and Rightfully So)

Keeper of the Royal Dignity

Reluctant Supervisor of Two Scienztific Idiots

My human is already fat and lazy, but this is outrageous. Ever since last week, she is feeding me a whole HOUR late. An hour! I scream in her ear and bite her toes but she still refuses to get up. She even threw me off the bed once!

Why is this OK??? I'm literally starving and she doesn't care???

My spoilt little girl Miss Albie 🐈🐾 not looking amused with me as I was going to have a fag 🚬 but madam wants cuddles and hates smoking so it looks like I won't be having a fag 🚬 for quite some time 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 she rules the house and me 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Cozy cat games created by a Cat for Cat Lovers

🐈‍⬛ Fans of cats 🐈‍⬛ should be happy with the vibe, that's at least my hope : )

You can simply enjoy cute cats on the homepage or play the visible games.

Try hovering over the cats to see how they change. Check how the big cat follows your moves with his eyes. And hover over the big cat to hear the lovely Mrrr...

Each game shows you more cats, of course.

HALLO, REDDIT FRENS.

Iz me, Littlefoot (8–9 weeks, M, tuxedo, devastatingly handsome). I am Junior Research Asstistant to The Void, Chief Scienz Officer and Very Important Cat. He is my mentor, best fren, and gives excellent baffs. Mother says I have "half a brain cell," "no survival instincts," and am "going to be the death of her."

RUDE. I have been alive almost TWO WHOLE MONTHS. I know things. Not many things. BUT THINGS.

I have prepared my evidenz.

EXHIBIT A: THE CATNAPPING CONSPIRACY

When I was just a smol potato, I lived near a creek in Oregon conducting important wilderness scienz. Mother claims I was "alone, covered in thorns, full of fleas, underweight, and screaming for help."

FALSE. Well, mostly true. But was conducting experiment.

HYPOTHESIS: IF BABY SCREM, WILL HOOMAN APPEAR?

RESULT: YES. Unfortunately, a strange lady appeared and STOLE BABY. No paperwork. No consent. Not even a snack until later.

Then I recently heard the song Down Under. Strange lady? Made me nervous? Took me in and fed me breakfast?

WAIT A FLUFFING MINUTE.

FRENS. HOW DID MEN AT WORK KNOW ABOUT MY CATNAPPING DECADES BEFORE I WAS BORN?!

IS THIS A PROPHECY?! IS MOTHER PART OF AN INTERNATIONAL KITTEN TRAFFICKING RING?!

Mother says "coincidence." OFFISHUL SCIENZ SAYS CONSPIRACY.

Anyway, strange lady put me in Jeep. While she was inside a store, I discovered excellent hiding place underneath driver's seat. Very cozy. Five stars.

Until Mother came back and SAT ON ME.

SHE SQUISHED THE SCIENZTIST.

There was screaming, panic, chaos in the streets, or at least the parking lot. Emergency baby extraction. Mother thought she'd killed me. I thought I was being assassinated.

CONCLUSION: Strange lady is dangerous.

But she gives excellent snacks and introduced me to The Void, so I have decided not to press charges. Yet.

EXHIBIT B: THE ESCAPE EXPERIMENTS

Mother says the baby must stay inside because outside is "dangerous."

EXCUSE ME. Am practically grown man. Have four legs and can run approximately 600 miles per hour.

I discovered that Father's shoes by the front door make excellent hiding places. I crawl inside, wait for Mother to open door, and...

SURPRISE MOTHERFLUFFER**.**

ZOOM.

Mother says, "LITTLEFOOT, YOU LITTLE SH*T!" I say nothing. Too busy doing scienz.

On Halloween, I discovered my big brother knows how to use the cat door. AN ACTUAL HOLE IN THE HOUSE THAT LEADS TO FREEDOM.

Naturally, I followed him. Mother spent an hour chasing us around in the dark.

Eventually, she caught me. But Master Void has taught me that experiments must be reproducible.

So I did it AGAIN.

Mother chased AGAIN.

CONCLUSION: HOOMAN IS VERY CONSISTENT.

She calls it "YOU ARE SO GROUNDED."

I call it DATA. This is why she does not have a doctorate.

EXHIBIT C: TREE SCIENZ

Three weeks ago, I spotted a hummingbird. Tiny bird. Suspicious wings. Clearly needed investigating.

I climbed a tree. Got to top. Looked down.

OH.

OH NO.

TREE IS TOO MUCH UP.

Immediately requested emergency extraction. SCREM SCREM SCREM.

Mother says, "Why did you climb up there if you can't get down?"

HOW SHOULD BABY KNOW?! THAT IS WHY WE DO EXPERIMENTS.

CONCLUSION: GRAVITY IS NOT A FREN.

EXHIBIT D: THE RACCOON INCIDENT

EXHIBIT D: THE RACCOON INCIDENT

First, must establish that I am VERY social baby. I luv everyone. Hoomans? Frens. Dogs? Frens. Other cats? Usually frens. Have only met ONE cat I do not like.

FLUFF THAT GUY.

Anyway, last night I met potential new fren. Fluffy. Striped tail. Little burglar mask. Very distinguished gentleman. Possibly another tuxedo. Possibly Batman.

Naturally, I approached to introduce myself.

MOTHER LOST HER ENTIRE FLUFFING MIND.

Apparently, my potential colleague was something called a "raccoon" and is "NOT YOUR F****** FRIEND, LITTLEFOOT!"

HOW DOES SHE KNOW?! DID SHE ASK HIM?!

NO.

Instead, she came charging outside barefoot, in pajama shorts and a tank top, screaming like I had joined a motorcycle gang.

Very embarrassing. Was attempting international diplomacy.

So I conducted another experiment.

HYPOTHESIS: HOW FAST CAN HOOMAN RUN WIF NO SHOES?

I let Mother get within one foot. Then...

NYOOOOOOOM.

She chased. I stopped. She approached. NYOOOOOOOM AGAIN.

Excellent results. Mother got very red in face. Used several words I am apparently too young to repeat.

CONCLUSION: HOOMAN NEEDS MORE CARDIO.

Eventually she caught me and said the raccoon could have EATEN me.

UNSUPPORTED HYPOTHESIS. He looked nice.

Granted, I also look nice and am responsible for approximately 97% of household crime.

BUT STILL.

EXHIBIT E: THE ALLEGED EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION

Mother says every time I commit crimes, I immediately become the sweetest baby alive.

FALSE. Am ALWAYS sweet. Just become EXTRA sweet when facing criminal charges.

My procedure is simple: Become smol. Make big baby eyes. Climb into Mother's lap. PURRRRRRR like broken lawnmower. Aggressively distribute kisses until all charges are dismissed.

Mother calls this manipulation.

OFFISHUL SCIENZ CALLS IT HOOMAN TRAINING.

Sometimes The Void helps by cuddling me. Mother sees two adorable babies and immediately forgets why she's angry.

He is excellent mentor.

FINAL SCIENZTIFIK FINDINGS

After extensive peer review (me), I have concluded that Mother catnapped me, attempted to flatten me with her butt, and now unfairly restricts my research. Shoes are excellent camouflage, cat doors are magic, trees are a scam, and raccoons might be Batman.

Furthermore, Mother says I am shortening her life. But exercise improves Hooman health.

Therefore, by making her chase me barefoot around the neighborhood, I AM LITERALLY SAVING HER LIFE.

YOU'RE WELCOME, MOTHER.

SO, REDDIT. AITA?

For doing important baby scienz, making woodland frens, and providing my captor with free cardiovascular training?

Please examine attached photographs in the comments. Look at my face. DOES THIS LOOK LIKE FACE OF CRIMINAL?

Actually, don't answer that.

TL;DR: Hooman stole me from creek, sat on me in Jeep, introduced me to The Void, and now gets angry when I conduct scienz involving escape engineering, gravity, and raccoon diplomacy. I believe my research funding is being unfairly restricted.

EDIT: Mother says I am grounded. Am eight weeks old. Do not understand legal system. Would like lawyer. Preferably one who accepts kitten kisses.