Rigo's Place

TRUTH PART TWO

2006-09-24T16:32:00.000-07:00

I can’t believe I have so many friends who have written to me concerned about my weight gain and health. But I guess I’m still in trouble because I didn’t exactly tell the entire story. Mom gives us dry diet food but she doesn’t leave it out for us all the time. She leaves it out overnight, and then puts it away about noon so we don’t exactly get to nibble all the time; although I confess I nibble more than the others.

Exactly straight up six o’clock we get canned food. I say straight up six because we line up at that time by the door to where Mom feeds us and where our facilities are kept. We all have a built in clock that tells us when it’s dinnertime and our timer never fails. Poultry Dinner is our favorite. But I like everything, all flavors are great with me and this appears to be my problem with over eating. Mom divides a 5.5oz. can of cat food among us four cats I gobble mine down fast as can be, but my brother and sisters are not so fast with the chow as me. They take their time and always leave some in their bowl, I suppose for later. But there is no later, I come in behind them and lick their bowls sparkling clean. I stuff myself like pig!

What can I do? I love food and I hate to see good food getting yucky because my siblings have walked away. There must be millions of homeless cats all over the world who would love a taste of the food we dine on and let get yucky. So I’m doing my duty to not be wasteful don’t you think that’s a good thing, that I’m being a good guy? Please send me your thoughts.

And don’t you think I’m still handsome as can be even though I’ve gained a little weight. I believe I’d still make a great model for a cat food commercial they can take one look at me and see how much I love the food I’m selling.

God Bless,
Rigo

TRUTH

2006-09-12T17:01:00.000-07:00

I’m confused and I don’t know what to do. I want to be truthful but I’m afraid I’ll disappoint everyone and they won’t like me anymore, life if hard sometimes. I might as well get on with it and spit it out. It concerns my photograph, I’ve had so many nice comments about it and I want to thank everyone for being so nice. It’s my signature photograph, I use it on everything and I’m so proud of it but there’s a problem. Oh I hate to tell. You see the picture was taken when I was two and now I’m nine.

There’s a lot more of me today than when I was two. They tell me at the animal clinic I’m twenty pounds overweight and should be on a diet. I am on a diet, they sell Mom diet food for us cats but there’s something wrong with it we just keep getting fatter. Well the truth is out and I’m probably ruined.

I’m still sweet and handsome simply more mature looking. I want to post a more recent picture of myself but I thought I’d better warn my readers of the change time has brought. I must face it, I’ll never again be the me I was when I was two. All my photographs are first-rate the camera loves me, but none as splendid as the one taken when I was two.

My human sister Sherie M. of Louisiana took the photograph with her trusty camera those many years ago. She wants money for it but I won’t give her any. The reason the picture turned out so great it was taken on our patio and a darn, stupid bird landed in the grass not far from me. I was about to make my move when Mom reached over with her hand just in time and stopped me from destroying the brainless creature. I was in shock when sister fired her camera I wanted that darn, stupid bird and I would have had him if not for Mom saving his life.

That’s my confession and I hope no one will hate me for it. I wasn’t trying to fool anyone. I don’t want to get kicked off Gather or lose my Blog it will kill me it’s my path to fame and fortune.

God Bless,
Rigo

DARKEST DAY

2006-08-21T15:46:00.000-07:00

It was one of the darkest days I could remember. Mom was in ballistic meltdown, Dad had spilled a pot of chicken broth all over the kitchen floor. We cats had never experienced such joy and happiness, wonderful chicken broth glistening on the kitchen floor for us kids to lap up. And the best was Mom hadn’t degreased it yet. Dad hates to degrease broth or anything else because, “that’s where all the flavor is.” Well all the flavor lay in a pool on the floor.

When Mom saw us kids run to the pool of chicken broth she became unhinged again. Get out of here she shouted at the thought of us tracking chicken broth over the carpet. The kitchen floor could be mopped but not the carpet, someone would die if that happened.

My brother and sisters departed the kitchen at full speed but I took up position in the hall to watch what would happen next. Poor Dad was beside himself he didn’t know how the pot could have slipped through his hands, he had just taken the chicken from the pot when the next thing he knew the pot was on the floor and a flood of greasy broth was pouring down the cabinet.

Get the microfiber mop and towels Mom cried. Microfiber is supposed to suck up everything up in its path well the microfiber mop and towels had never met Dad’s chicken grease before, but it did its best. Just before the micro mop and towels hit the floor Dad noticed me watching from the hall, quickly he grabbed a cat bowl and spooned some of the broth into the bowl for us kids to enjoy later. My Dad’s a wonderful guy; always thinking of us kids. I hoped Mom wouldn’t degrease it first and suck all the flavor from it.

We survived the disaster of the broth with the kitchen floor in better shape than before; I believe the chicken grease gave the floor a much better shine. Of course this isn’t the end of the story, the next day Mom reached in the lower cabinet to grab a pie plate and found it full of you know what. I hope this never happens to you, it could possibly wreck a happy home. Almost forgot, we got our bowl of chicken broth still full of flavor, Dad hid it from Mom.

Mom confessed that before she and Dad were married she reached in the frig for a lemon pie she’d made and dropped it up side down on the floor. Dad and me been wondering if anything like this ever happened to any of you folks, we sure would like to know your story.

God Bless,
Rigo

2006-06-13T13:10:00.000-07:00

I’m back after several months away due to my Dad’s illness. Dad’s much better and Mom’s now available to help me with the keyboard, as my paws don’t fit those tiny keys. They sure need to make them cat size, think I’ll give Bill Gates a call and ask him to design a keyboard for me.
Dad’s illness fell hard on me because I love him very much as do Baby, Callie and Peppy. My home responsibilities increased especially in the area of security. As you may know I’m Security Chief when my parents are away and at the time of Dad’s illness he asked me to fill in for him and keep Mom and my brother and sisters safe and secure. This kept me quite busy making sure all doors and windows were locked tight at night and then assigning the night watch to my brother and sisters who cooperated without too much fuss. After Dad came home from the hospital our nighttime duties continued but during the day we kept Dad company by crashing on the bed with him just to be certain he was all right.

As Dad got better my duties got fewer and I determined during my free time I’d put myself to studying how to become a better writer. I went online to find the best free writing school on the internet. Most of them didn’t measure up to what I was lookin’ for. I’m a free thinker and I want to develop a style all my own. That’s one reason I joined the Gather group “Free Thinking & Free Writing.” They let you do what you want, so long as it’s legal I guess. Not so them writin’ schools they all want you to do it their way, why they have so many rules for writin’ it’s positively nauseous. I signed up and soon e-mails flooded my in-box, absolutely overloaded it. They all had the same theme I didn’t follow the rules in fact they told me I didn’t have any rules, now that’s just what I was looking for NO RULES! Of course they flunked me big time, now I’m thinking of getting even with them and establishing my own writin’ school thus creating a whole new way of innovative writin’. Free thinking, free writin’ that’s for me.

Just to let you know I received my yearly post card from the lady doctor, my injections are due and Mom says I need a hair, cut standby for further developments.
Catch you next time
God Bless,
Rigo

2006-03-21T16:35:00.000-08:00

Rigo’s Commentary

The headline screamed, PIRATES ATTACK U.S. NAVY WARSHIP off the coast of Somalia. What craziness is this I asked myself, surely someone got something bad wrong with this story. With my tail wagging I decided to check out the story with another internet newspaper that I trusted only to find the same headline. Could the story be true or have all the reporters put a little something extra into their morning coffee.

With my tail wagging in overtime I began to read about modern day pirates. The stupid pirates actually attacked one of our guided-missile cruisers off the coast of Somalia in a 30-foot fishing boat. These guys must have been eat up with the dumbness I thought. The pirates attacked our navy guys with what appeared to be a rocket-propelled grenade launcher. Oh, these poor guys have been at sea way too long, it don’t take a rocket scientists to figure out they need professional counseling really bad.

And whoever gave them guys that grenade launcher should be thrown in jail. I bet they didn’t even know how to use it. Never the less they fired the thing at our navy and you know our guys ain’t about to sit back and take it from a bunch of crazy pirates. Gunfire was exchanged and the pirates lost. One ended up dead the others were taken aboard our ship, patched up and hopefully sent to a shrink.

I asked myself why our navy didn’t blow the pirates out of the water and end their misery. Then it came to me, missiles cost tons of money and the pirates probably got their boat from Wal-Mart, it would have been a waste of taxpayer dollars. That’s our navy guys, always thinkin’ and lookin’ out for us.

Have a great day!
God Bless,
Rigo

2006-02-25T13:59:00.000-08:00

MY WAY
Hello, Rigo Here,
The roof of my mind blew off the top of my head and I went into total spin out. To think I’ve been invited to write about myself by Gather.Com. What an unexpected honor, it is something I dreamed of but never thought it would happen to me. I was writing my Blog just for fun, didn’t even know if anyone was reading my stuff when out of the blue came the e-mail from the nice folks at Gather. Dad thought it was a hoax; such is his confidence in me. How they found me I’ll never know. To think of the thousands of talented writers around the world and they chose me. Why I’ve never even been to school, I have a degree in nothin’. I’ve not been a humble cat, but me is now very humble and grateful. I can see fame and fortune awaits me as I’ve hit the big time, there will be no stopping me now.
My name is Rigoletto after the opera of the same name, but my family and friends call me Rigo, so please feel free to call me Rigo all that opera stuff gets to me at times. I like to write about my life and adventures, I just put down whatever happens to hit my brain at the moment. I do all my own writing, Mom puts it on the computer for me because my paws are too big for the keyboard and I have trouble controlling the mouse – I hate mice!
Mom’s best friend Miss Marion the retired English teacher has criticized me because of my poor grammar. I almost gave her heart failure when I told her I’d been invited to write for Gather. “Someone is trying to pull something on you, send no money,” she warned wringing her hands. She taught English classes almost all her life, then in her senior years along comes little me and blows her mind because my grammar is terrible, my sentence structure isn’t the way she likes it and I only use punctuation when I feel like throwing something in because I like the look of it. The computer even tries to correct me, but I say, “No Thanks, I want to do it my way.” Me breaks all the rules and gets away with it because me is cat. Miss Marion can’t stand it she becomes unglued. “Everything I’ve taught he’s thrown away,” she screams wringing her hands.
Of course I threw away the rules, you can get rule perfect writers every day but none like me. I’m not a human writer, I’m a cat and my writing reflects who I am. I write the way I think and talk. I like to use me in my writings, I like to say me done this and me done that and Miss Marion becomes totally unglued. She needs to loosen up and have some fun. I like Miss Marion she’s my friend but I will not let her or anyone make me write like a human that would be boring and besides I am stubborn; such is the nature of cat.
I’m a spoiled rotten house cat and I know it. Mom refuses to let me go outside, her reason is I’ll get into trouble, which is probably true since I’m a cat and will want to do it my way. Also, Mom is very concerned with being clean and of course with those nasty little critters fleas. I hate them things they make you scratch all the time. She also doesn’t want my beautiful, luxurious fur coat to become a dirty, matted mess. I’m a good lookin’ dude as you can see from my picture and my appearance is very important to me so we’ve reached an agreement it’s best I remain inside.
As a kitten I was full of play and minded my manners as much as I could. I tried to please my parents because they made me a part of their life and gave me lots of love and plenty of good cat food. At an early age I learned how to control situations to my advantage. If I should get into mischief and Mom scolded me I would run and bury my face in the corner of the sofa; my feelings had been deeply wounded. This would bring both Mom and Dad on the run. “Why did you treat him that way, you know he can’t take it,” Dad would say. Then Mom would gather me in her arms, play Ode To Joy, and rock me until I fell asleep purring. This was my way of controlling situations and turning them immediately to my advantage.
The first day I hit their house I was introduced to opera. Mom had the Three Tenors singing and it didn’t take long before I knew every note them guy’s sung. Next, I was introduced to the Bacchanale from Camille Saint-Saens, Samson & Dalila. This became my signature music. It seemed to represent me; I’d race through the house like the speed of light then I’d go into a spin. The faster the music played, the faster I’d spin. To calm me after a romp and spin Mom would play Ode To Joy and rock me to sleep, she does it to this day.
The day my world crashed was the day my parents moved grandma here from Texas. You see, with grandma come her two feline mad hatters Baby and Callie. Grandma moved to the retirement home to escape them, but Baby and Callie moved in with us. My life was turned upside down when those two she-devils moved in and took over. I suddenly had monsters for sisters and they were not to be messed with as they were from Texas. The girls have chili pepper tempers, especially Callie who I believe is a south of the border girl who swam the Rio Grande and is illegal.
Next, came little brother Peppy. Mom discovered him under a bush in our backyard almost starved to death. We don’t know how long he hid in our yard before Mom found him but let me tell you he’s no longer skinny. He’s fat as a pig, but small because he didn’t get proper nutrition and medical care when he was a kitten. I criticize Peppy because he’s an intruder into my life like Baby and Callie. He’s young and full of energy and knows nothin’. I realize he needed a home and we were the only suckers on the block who would take him in. I suppose you think I’m awful the way I speak about him and my sisters but you see before they moved in I was known as little king. Dad was big king and I was little king. My parents thought I’d like having companions and not being alone when they were away. They no nothin’ I liked being an only cat and besides cats don’t run in packs like dogs we like our privacy, and I liked being little king, now I’m king of nothin’. Such is my life, on top one day, then rock bottom the next, know what I mean.
I must apologize to the nice guy who wanted to connect and read my stuff but the darn mouse pounced on the deny button before I could stop him and wham my new found friend went into cyber space. I want to be the most widely read cat on the planet that’s my goal, but the mouse sabotages me all the time. This was certainly no way to begin my career. I will kill the mouse one day! I do hope to get back the dude the mouse sent into cyber space. Be cool dude and try again I’ve gained control over the mouse and I want you as my friend.
God Bless,
Rigo

2006-02-08T18:13:00.000-08:00

Peppy & The Buzzard

This story has to do with the street cat Peppy. As much as I hate to admit it Peppy’s not really a bad guy he’s just young and full of mischief. If he don’t get killed or carried away he might just prove to be not too bad a guy.

Peppy is an inside/outside cat, as I like to say. Since he lived for two years on his own and survived, Mom will let him go outside while she drinks her coffee and reads her bible in the morning. But this morning while making coffee she kept a check on him. She’d glance out the window and noticed he hadn’t left the patio. Strange she thought but kept puttering around the kitchen. One more glance out the window and Peppy was still on the patio; then she noticed the hair on his back began to bristle. No dog in site what was the trouble quickly she opened the door then ran to grab Peppy. A huge buzzard was sitting on the fence ready to snatch Peppy should he venture into the yard. “Get out of here,” screamed Mom as she ran with Peppy into the house. Looking out the window Mom saw the buzzard flying away he was so big he could have easily picked up poor little Peppy and had him or any other small animal for breakfast.

“That was a close one Mom,” I said, “You think the wind blew him in last night?” “I guess so Rigo,” Mom said near tears. You see we had a bad storm the night before with strong winds, hail and tornado’s flying everywhere. The wind probably blew the old buzzard in town and he ended up in our back yard with Peppy nearly being buzzard bate. Now Mom has become even more over protective of Peppy not letting him out until almost noon hoping I suppose that if the buzzard is still hanging around town he’ll have found his breakfast and won’t fly away with our Peppy.

I’ve been telling Peppy he needs to put on weight but now it seems to be necessary. No bird of any kind could ever fly away with me or Callie they would never get airborne or crash a few feet from the ground then me or Callie would make the feathers fly. I hate birds anyway, especially the killer kind.

That’s all for now folks, catch you next time.

God Bless,
Rigo

2006-01-13T11:00:00.000-08:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR WORLD!
RIGO'S BACK

Yes indeed I’m back and ready to go. The first thing to do is wish everyone a great year to come and pray the politicians don’t blow up the world because me is in it. Hope you folks had a Merry Christmas because I didn’t. No indeed I was left HOME ALONE with the unrefined beasts who I had to endure during the absence of my parents. It’s no secret I hate being left home alone with Baby, Callie and the street cat Peppy. They simply are all hairy beasts and none as handsome as me, but enough of this and on to what I call The Ironing Board Caper.

I was not responsible for it and no one can lay it at my doorstep. Mom was getting back to bed for the second time the other night, and I was almost asleep at the foot of the bed when suddenly we heard a loud noise. Was it a burglar, had someone broken into our home. Dad was fast asleep and Mom didn’t want to wake him about something as silly as a home break-in. As second in line of security I knew I’d be called on to check things out so I pretended to be fast asleep. I simply didn’t feel the need to terrorize some poor hapless burglar who may have invaded our home, let Mom do it! Better still let Callie do it. No burglar better dare fool with her or she’ll eat him alive. She’s the meanest cat on this good earth; just ask our doctor she’ll tell you. Enough of Callie I’ll tell you more about her another time better get back to my story and not ramble. But she makes me mad every time I think of her.

“Rigo,” Mom whispered. I sank even farther down under the covers and kept my eyes tightly shut. “Guess I’ll have to go alone,” said Mom getting out of bed and giving me the evil eye. Slowly she made her way into the hall, by this time I began to feel sorrow in my heart for her and crept silently down the hall behind her. “Thank you, Rigo, I knew you’d never let me go alone,” she whispered as we entered the living room. Phew, no one was there. On we went until we came to the laundry room that also serves as our dining room and where our facilities are kept. “We’d better check this out Mom,” I said and with great courage entered the room ahead of her. Something was in the way, “Flip the light’s Mom.”

There on the floor lay the cause of our venture through the darken house. The ironing board had fallen on top of the vacuum cleaner along with brooms and mop. Who did it? Mom and me knew the ironing board had not suddenly jumped a top the vacuum cleaner for a wild ride and neither had the brooms and mop. We had a caper on our hands, a middle of the night who done it. Poor Mom had to pick up everything and put them back in their proper place. “I’ll never get to sleep after this, Rigo,” she moaned. “Go back to bed, Mom, I’ll handle it.” I would find the hairy beast or beasts that was the cause of our lack of sleep and kill them.

I called a meeting and demanded to know who was the party responsible for poor Mom’s fright and dragging me out of bed into a cold, dark house in the middle of the night. “Who done it,” I shrieked. No one moved or spoke, no one was claiming responsibility, cowards all. Finally chicken-little spoke, “It was me, I didn’t mean to do it, it was a lack of judgment,” mewed the street cat Peppy. All street cat’s lack judgment or they wouldn’t be street cat’s was what I was thinkin’.

“I was sharpening my claws as I always do on the ironing board, great place for sharpening,” he rambled “when I caught a claw in the cloth. I didn’t want to tear Mom’s board for I knew she’d be really mad at me,” he kept rambling. “How did you knock down everything,” I screamed. “I pulled a little too hard and everything started falling on me,” he cried. “I could have been killed.”

Poor little kitty almost killed not by a car or truck but by an ironing board. Dumb street cat! “Well cat you’ll have to confess to Mom in the morning what you done. I hope it’s back to the street life you go,” I said discussed at having a dumb street cat disturb my good night’s rest. The ironing board caper was solved, but I knew my Mom would never send Peppy back to the street life no matter how many ironing boards he knocked down.

Until next time,
May God bless you and yours,
Rigo

2005-12-20T14:30:00.000-08:00

MERRY CHRISTMAS WORLD

FROM RIGO AND FAMILY

No, I haven’t forsaken my Blog I’ve just been a very busy cat and so has my Mom. Mom’s been too busy to take dictation and type my Blog and my paws don’t fit the keyboard. But beginning next year I will be back full of news about my life and adventures; so please stay tuned for the life and times of Rigoletto.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!
And May God Bless You & Your’s,
Rigoletto & Family

Hello, it’s Rigo here again.

2005-07-24T14:29:00.000-07:00

My day began well enough, first it was a breakfast of dry cereal then I did my grooming so I’d look my very best. Mom let Peppy outside so at least I’d have a few hours rest. Baby and Callie were asleep so I decided to join Dad for the morning news on TV. The news is never good and this day was no exception, murder, robbery, war, and government officials wanting to take our homes and businesses so they can give them to someone else and collect bigger taxes. What a mess!

I determined I had enough bad news so I decided to take a little nap on Dad’s bed. I don’t know how long I slept but when I woke up I decided I needed a drink of water so it was off to the kitchen and my water bowl. I never made it to the kitchen, I could see IT from the living room and I stopped dead in my tracks. It was the death limo parked in the kitchen waiting to take one of us kids to the mean lady doctor. Which one would it be? Which one could expect a ride in the death limo to the mean lady doctor’s dull needle? Could it be me, surely not I was just there or so it seemed. Better go and check Mom’s calendar to see who was scheduled for the death ride. I jumped on the desk only to see (Rigo – 2:30) I almost fell over dead. Better to die at home than on the death ride or at the mean lady doctor’s office. What could I do to avoid the death limo?

I quickly put my brain into fast-forward what I needed a jet speed solution. Thoughts raced through my brain as I heard Mom’s voice calling me. She was almost upon me when like lightening I made a dash for safety but Mom was faster and grabbed my tail. I gave a scream to be heard all over town, then the fight was on the only way she could hold me was by my fur coat. Screaming I was carried fighting all the way to the death limo. Dad wouldn’t be of any help he had join the enemy and was holding the door open for Mom to stuff me into the limo, then bang the door was shut and tightly locked.

“Rigo, got me,” I heard Mom tell Dad she was wounded on the heel and I had punctured her thumb. At least I didn’t go down without a fight. But I was trapped, and panic-stricken; unfortunately I was so terrified I began to christen the limo. I was awash in a sea of you know what, I couldn’t help it I’d had a complete breakdown. Then suddenly Dad picked up the limo, I lost my balance and down I went into the Dead Sea. It was horrible, I was horrible, I began to scream but Mom and Dad paid no attention to me; but that would change when I hit the doctor’s office. When the doctor opened the limo door a very damp me stumbled out onto the examining table. “Rigo, what did you do,” shrieked my poor stunned mother. “He’ll need a bath,” said the mean lady doctor handing a large towel to her assistant. “You can’t bathe him cried Mom. “He won’t let anyone bathe him, not even the groomer. Mom was about to become totally unglued she was about to have her own breakdown.

The doctor’s assistant who wasn’t much bigger than me took the towel, wrapped me in it, and was about to carry me away when Mom told her she would come too. She wouldn’t leave me alone with a stranger this of course was as much for her protection as for mine. It was all the little lady could do to carry me to the bathing facilities struggling as I was. Mom was ringing her hands with fear at the thought of what I might do when I saw the shower. Mom made certain every door was tightly shut so I couldn’t escape. Where did she think I’d escape to, did she really think I’d jump the fence and try and race across four lanes of traffic only to become road kill. She must think I’ve no intelligence.

So I allowed the little lady to carry me to the shower that’s where I planned to put up my bravest fight. I knew from past experience I could be deadly in the shower just like at the groomer’s salon from which Callie and me have been banned. We terrified the groomer so much she begged Mom never to bring us back. The plan worked then and it would work now. Only this wasn’t anything like the groomer’s salon when the little lady opened the door there stood a kennel filled with DOG’S. My heart almost stopped at the sight of the beasts. I tried hard to escape, better to die in traffic than to be killed by a rotten, flea bitten dog. But Mom quickly slammed the door shut and I was trapped in a room filled with mangy, nasty, dogs. Perhaps if I were quiet they wouldn’t notice me as I was taken to the dreaded shower. I could feel their vicious eyes starring at me as I was carried past their kennels. Were the kennel doors locked? I noticed Mom looking intently at the kennels and I felt certain everything must be secure; my Mom would never let a vicious dog get to her precious Rigo. Finally we arrived at the bathing facilities and the little lady gently set me down in the bathtub. I was very quiet I knew I couldn’t go into my rage act with all those horrible dogs watching me. I knew I must be quiet and not call attention to myself and start the hounds howling. Still I could not help struggling somewhat when the water hit me, “Be nice, Rigo were almost done,” said the lady as she sprayed me one last time. I was towel dried and then carried back again past the pack of hairy hounds to the mean lady doctor’s office. I knew I’d have nightmares for years to come at the thought of being locked in a room filled with vicious, dangerous, terrorist dogs.

More terror was yet to come, enter the mean lady doctor with the dreaded blunt needles. Fast as the speed of light she rammed my behind not even giving me time to scream. Next came the electric shaver, at this procedure I did my best to take her down as I did the groomer. But she was no push over, she didn’t play fair, she grabbed me by the back of my neck and paralyzed me. She ran the razor over my tummy and down my back legs and all my fine fur fell on the table. Even Mom was astounded how quickly she did it without even getting one scratch. I tell you that doctor is one tough lady. As we left the doctors office Mom handed her a copy of my latest blog, which we both knew, would shortly be thrown in the trash. Why Mom even bothered I didn’t know, maybe she went insane.

Unfortunately after surviving my visit to the mean lady doctor’s office the very next week I had to return with a case of, how to say it nicely – diarrhea! The nightmare of the dogs had done me in and I found myself once again sitting in the Dead Sea. Yes, I christened the death limo and I knew I’d have to endure another walk past the hounds and more terrible nightmares. But to my surprise this time they escorted me to another shower where no dogs were present only people. Thank goodness, maybe the nightmares and the diarrhea would end.

Still, I had to face the shower with a bunch of strangers watching me. They sent two ladies this time to bathe me. I guess I scared the other one so badly she ran and hid. I noticed as I was being showered everyone was watching me very closely. “Is that him,” I heard someone say, “Yes, this is Rigoletto,” said one of the ladies bathing me. What was going on – “Oh, Rigoletto, we enjoyed your blog,” they raved. The mean lady doctor had posted my blog, not trashed it. Maybe she isn’t really so bad, but I’ll have to think about it some before I decide. So there I was standing in the shower looking like a drowned rat with everyone crowding around and making a fuss over me when another lady doctor walked in whom I’d never met, so what do they do but drag her over to meet me standing a soaked, matted mess in the shower. Now I ask you, how do you suppose they’d like it if they were standing in the shower and a bunch of strangers busted in wanting to meet them. Something tells me they wouldn’t be pleased at all.

Such is my life, standing drenched at the animal clinic to meet my adoring fans. I’ve always wanted to be famous and I should be Mom named me after the opera Rigoletto. I wonder if there’s a scene in the opera where the entire cast is paraded through while the tenor is singing in the shower. Maybe I’ll go to the Metropolitan Opera House in New York to see it someday. Somebody please send me a ticket.

God Bless,
Rigo

SLEEP OVER

2005-05-15T14:58:00.000-07:00

STOP, STOP don’t click that mouse and move to another page. I’m no longer a flat liner I’ve hit a mountain peak in my ratings battle with my buddy George. I just viewed my Stat Counter and I’ve gained readers from all over the world. So hello to you folks from the UK, Canada, Germany and Russia and a big time thank you to my friends in the U.S.A. And a big thanks to my friend Amy and her pals I know with your help I’ll win the ratings battle. Thanks for reading my Blog. I don’t know if you folks from across the ocean know any American cats but we’re pretty much the same everywhere. Though my Mom say’s I’m a real people person, I want to get acquainted with everyone who comes to visit my parents. Not so my deranged companions, they flee the moment anyone enters our home, which is just as well since no one wants to have anything to do such over the edge brainless cats. Once again a special thanks to you folks who visited my Blog I hope you return many times to read of the trials and tribulations of Rigoletto.

SLEEP OVER

The phone rang it was my friend and best buddy neighbor George. It was late and I wondered why George was calling at this hour. Didn’t matter because I knew it didn’t concern me. I continued to watch the boring TV. Mom and Dad were talking in quiet voices but I paid no attention I was dozing and almost asleep when I heard Mom say, “Wake up, Rigo.” I paid no attention I didn’t want to wake up I wanted to sleep.

“Rigo, George called he wants you to spend the night and watch movies with him tonight do you want to go?” asked Mom. I did one leap straight up almost touching the ceiling, YES! I screamed. George’s giant movie screen and surround sound loomed before me I’d heard Mom and Dad talk about his state of the art home theater but never did I imagine I’d be invited to his bachelor pad to watch moves on such a fine masterpiece of entertainment. My heart raced wildly never did I dream of such a thing. I thought I’d always be confined to small screen TV programming. What difference did it make what I watched on our TV it was always the same, news programs, food network, QVC, re-runs of ancient comedy shows or Opera. That was my fate, but now I’d been invited to George’s digs for state of the art movies. “YAHOO!” I screamed.

Mom wanted to know if I was certain about spending the night and watching movies after all I’d never been away from home. I pretend not to be over anxious I told Mom it would be a nice change of pace for me and that George must be lonely all by himself. I thought I’d better go and keep him company after all it would be doin’ a good deed. Good deed doer that was me.

My scheme worked Mom picked up the phone and told George I could come and keep him company for one night only. Dad got my carrier down from the attic and this time I didn’t mind going for a ride in it. The doorbell rang it was my buddy.

“Nice of you to invited Rigo for the night George,” said Dad. Before another word could be said Mom began with RULES. First rule was I could only watch “G” rated movies, no X,Y,Z movies were allowed said Mom trying to kill everything. Rule two, no drinking of any thing with “spirits” in front of me and most certainly I was not allowed “spirits.” Did George understand rule number two? George didn’t even try to answer he just nodded his head in agreement and remained silent. Another rule was added, Sleep. I was young and needed my rest, did he understand. Again George just nodded in agreement. I was so embarrassed I hid my face in my paws hoping to melt into the carpet.

Then Dad stepped in before any more rules could be added. Quickly he picked up my carrier and motioned for me to run in but before I could make my move Mom pounced. “Wait!” she said. He must have his facilities he can’t be without facilities over night. George didn’t have a clue about facilities.

My heart sank it was over before it even began George would never agree to carry my facilities to his house. Dad explained to George about the facility situation. And of course I did need my facilities I couldn’t do without it over night this had suddenly become a very dead deal.

But it wasn’t dead George did indeed have a place for my facilities no problem. “Let’s go, Rigo,” said my buddy as I was about to follow him out the door. “Wait!” screamed Mom, I couldn’t walk I had to go in my carrier. Another major embarrassment hit me in the face. Dad to the rescue again, I was only going next door I’d be perfectly safe with George. Mom wasn’t certain, I’d never been outside, anything could happen. Dad explained I couldn’t get lost following George and he was certain I wouldn’t run off not with movies looming before me. What a great guy is my Dad.

Quickly George picked up my facility box and walked out the door. Like lighting I was out the door behind him. “Don’t walk in the street,” Mom shouted as Dad closed the door and locked it tightly. We had made our escape and I was on my way to George’s digs for a night at the movies.

George was almost running as we made our way across the dark lawn. Yea, at anytime Mom could come running after us with yet another rule. We made it safely to George’s digs. I must remember to be polite and not do paw springs across the sofa and chairs. I must not forget what my parents have taught me.

George turned on the lights and led the way to my place of business for the night. Then it was time for the grand event. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw when we entered “The Theatre.” A giant screen filled three walls; huge speakers were expertly placed around the room. Then he showed me the elevated control center it was an oversized lounge chair in the center of the room. A fire red remote control unit sat on a table next to the chair. He could control everything from his giant control chair. Then he showed me how to dim the lights that would be my job he told me to my delight. Immediately I started flickering the lights but was quickly told it wasn’t a toy to play with but was a responsible job he had given me. Wow! I was in the big time and I must not fool around. George had placed a great responsibility on my shoulders and I couldn’t let him down.

George continued showing me how the remote control unit worked but didn’t offer to let me take command. I had enough responsibility managing the lights I suppose. Next he showed me the loaded snack bar. He had a microwave, convection oven, a mini refrigerator filled with “spirits” of all kinds plus an assortment of soda, for me I suppose. And a full size popcorn machine, all of this was at his fingertips, he never had to leave his chair.

He told me to take a seat next to him on an extra comfy chair that he’d brought in just for me. Then he grabbed a beer from the frig. Rule number two broken immediately; I was in for a swingin’ night! “I didn’t forget you, Rigo, ole boy,” said George grabbing a soda pop for me. Ah, this was the life I thought as I settled back in my extra comfy chair taking a drink of strawberry soda, my very first. Very good soda indeed, wonder why Mom and Dad never gave me one, I would soon find out why. Suddenly my eyes zeroed in on THEM sitting next to the control chair, OLIVES! A giant jar of Spanish olives with the little red worm stuffed inside, my very favorite food in the entire world. My heart raced, was it for me? Would it be rude of me to ask? Since all rules had been blown away, I blurted out, “are them olives for me?”

George just laughed at my rudeness, of course they were for me he’d simply forgotten about them. Quickly he opened the jar, grabbed a saucer and napkin for me and set the giant jar on the table next to my chair. How many delicious olives would George allow me to have? He didn’t care how many I ate the jar was mine. Mom was always stingy about the olives I was only allowed two at the most, now I had a giant jar of olives all to myself. This was to be a glorious evening indeed. George got the popcorn machine fired up, grabbed the making’s for hot dogs and slid the buns in the oven and the dogs in the microwave, grabbed a huge bag of chips and we were almost ready for movie time madness.

Would it be science fiction or action adventure? I wanted none of that mushy romance stuff; I wanted real action adventure movie makin’. The dogs and popcorn were ready, I had my olives plus an over stuffed dog and chips, I was ready for “lights, camera, action!” George gave the order to lower the lights. Proudly I clicked the switch and the lights began to dim what a moment that was for me. A blast of sound screamed passed me almost lifting me from my chair I thought my eardrums had exploded. What was that? Another blast screamed passed me, it was a rocket ship blastin’ it’s way across George’s theatre. Star War’s real time comet’s screaming past my chair, I’d never seen or heard anything like it before. I knew I’d be deaf before the evening was over, I didn’t care if George could take it so could I. I even got aliens attacking my blog! If you don’t believe me, just click here.

We watched move after movie, it was two in the morning when I noticed the time. The popcorn machine had slowed down and the dogs were no longer barking in the microwave. I’d eaten more than half of the olives and drank all the soda pop. I stuffed the delicious dogs down my tummy and wondered why Mom had never given me a stuffed dog I was soon to find out why. The only thing I didn’t stuff down my gut was the popcorn it was too hard on my gums.

My tummy was beginning to make sounds, it had never talked to me before but I paid no attention I continued to eat olives although they were beginning to taste like I’d eaten the pits instead of the little red worm. It was around three in the morning when my tummy spoke to me strongly I was feeling the fizz from the soda pop – gas! Then the dogs hit me, then the salty olives I thought I was going to die. Could it be that was why Mom never let me eat all the olives I wanted, why I never had a stuffed dog or soda pop all this junk food wasn’t good for me, George had tried to kill me with junk food.

I was about to make my protest to him but he was asleep in his giant control chair all at once I knew I had to make it to my facilities. I made a mad dash across the room, but it was too late I had my revenge on George I threw up all over his theatre. “What happened,” he screamed jumping from his giant chair. “You tried to kill me with junk food,” I moaned and threw up again. It was horrible everything that went down my gut came back up in a most terrible way. I’d never been sick a day in my life now I felt I was about to die; Mom’s really do know best.

“Call my Mom I want to go home,” I sobbed. The thought of my going home terrified George. He was a dead man for sure my Mom would snatch his head off for making her precious Rigo sick. George pleaded with me, we’d watch more movies he tried to bribe me with X-rated movies it was pitiful. George was almost crying he was so terrified of Mom. I calmed him down by telling him I wouldn’t call Mom but I needed a quiet place to lie down.

He sent me to the guest bedroom and brought a bucket in case I got sick again. Oh, I knew I was about to die why did George let me eat junk food. Next time I’d bring my own delicious canned cat food or some nice chunky dry cat food and I knew it would be a long time before I wanted to see olives with the little red worm stuffed inside. I guess I must have passed out because the next thing I knew it was morning. I had a slight headache but my tummy was feeling better. Slowly I crept from the room and made my way into the theatre. The mess I’d made had been cleaned up, poor George. But where was he, the temptation was there to take command of the control center but from somewhere deep inside my mind a red flag began to fly – It was not mine and if I wanted to live I’d leave it alone.

I made my way through the house to the kitchen George was setting at the table drinking coffee and looking awful. I apologized for the stomach mess on the floor but I wasn’t use to junk food and I’d never touch it again. So began the morning, I was ready to go home but wasn’t sure how to approach the subject seeing he was so frightened of Mom. Then the telephone rang, it was Mom she wanted me home pronto. I knew I’d never be invited to George’s digs again but I wanted him to know I did enjoy the movies and was honored he let me control the lights. I was sorry I got sick, but I knew he didn’t try to kill me we just didn’t know junk food is bad for cats. George patted my head and told me I was welcome for movies whenever I wanted to come, but it would be best if I brought my own food. What a guy, what a pal, threw up all over his pad and he still wants to watch movies with me.

Folks, I hope you have friends like that.

God Bless,
Rigo

2005-04-23T13:47:00.000-07:00

Thinkin' It Over

MY LIFE

2005-04-23T13:37:00.000-07:00

STOP, STOP Don’t click that mouse and move to another blog please, please read MY blog I’m in a rating’s battle with my friend and fellow blogger George. George writes technical computer stuff, his ratings are through the roof while mine have fallen into a black hole. I’ve tried everything to gain readers I’ve written about library openings, opera, cooking shows, and articles hidden on the back pages of newspapers and given it all my special twist. It appears nobody wants to read any of these stories so I racked my brain to try and find something of interest and gain readers and beat George in the ratings battle. Then suddenly my brilliant brain exploded, my readers want to read about ME! Why not I’m an interesting fellow, I lead a life of day-to-day courage, a life of survival of the fittest, you see I live with three over the edge, brain damaged cats and over protective parents. Read of my terrible situation and my courage when faced with life’s challenges. Tell your friends and help me win the ratings battle.

MY DARKEST DAY

Mom gave me the good news my friend and fellow blogger George was coming for lunch. After lunch he and Dad would huddle for most of the afternoon over Dad’s computer. George has taught my parents everything they know about the computer and me too of course. The news really perked me up I always pick up computer points from George, what knowledge awaited me today I wondered.

The doorbell rang it was my buddy at the door. Warm greeting were given and I rubbed myself against George’s leg and purred my loudest it was my very special greeting for only my dearest, closest friends. Mom and Dad said, “come to the kitchen George lunch is almost ready.” Chicken spaghetti was the main feature of Mom’s menu. George is never is fussy about what we serve him so long as he doesn’t have to cook it himself. You see George is a swingin’ bachelor he gets tired of cooking for himself, though if he was smart he wouldn’t have to. You should see the line of cars that go pass his digs it’s amazing at all the ladies that drive by to see if he’s givin’ one of his famous bashes. Oh, well I guess George is havin’ fun one of these days he’ll settle down, we hope. In the meantime we have a computer genius living next door.

Lunch seemed to take forever, I was anxious for more computer pointers the more knowledge I could gain the better. Finally all guts were stuffed and most of the food had been eaten. What did I get you may ask, dry cereal was my fate. Didn’t matter, the time had come and I lead the way to Dad’s computer. George took his seat at the computer what treasure was in store for us today, what knowledge would George share with us?

“Got to show you something before we begin,” said George. George went directly to the Blogger stat Counter. Why is he doing that I wondered as I scratched my head. “You got to see my ratings,” he boasted. My eyes were wide like saucers we were to see George’s ratings. My heart pounded what points had he gained I wondered. His ratings were through the roof again he had mountain top ratings. But he didn’t stop there, “Let’s see how Rigo is doing,” he said. No, no, don’t show my ratings I don’t want my parents to see them I thought. Quick as a flash George pulled up my page, my little heart sank as I looked once again at the flat line at the bottom of the page. Just a flat line, no hills, no peaks and certainly no mountaintop experience just a straight flat line like I was dead. Poor Rigo they all said, “Don’t you worry Rigo one of these days you too will be read by millions,” said Mom.

My head was down and my tail did drag as I left the room in humiliation my best friend had disgraced me in front of my parents what was I to do, then I heard his voice, “Rigo, come here why did you run off,” asked George. Oh I was low, my spirit was in the gutter. “Listen, Rigo,” said George, “we all sometimes start slow but as we gain experience we get better and better. And you are on the right track for a better blog I know you are. Folks want to know about you and your life. You lead an interesting life, mark my words you will be more famous than me someday,” said my buddy.

Of course he was right, I’d be world famous one day after all I do have a famous name and if George told me I’d be famous who am I to say he’s wrong. So folks stay tuned and see me rocket to the moon. Rigo’s life is only just beginning. For George’s super blog, click here.

God Bless,
Catch you next time,Rigo

2005-04-23T12:44:00.000-07:00

Relaxin'

STOP, STOP

2005-04-10T18:22:00.000-07:00

Don’t click that mouse and move to another blog please, please read MY blog I’m in a rating’s battle with my friend and fellow blogger George. George writes technical computer stuff, his ratings are through the roof while mine have fallen into a black hole. I’ve tried everything to gain readers I’ve written about library openings, opera, cooking shows, and articles hidden on the back pages of newspapers and given it all my special twist. It appears nobody wants to read any of these stories so I racked my brain to try and find something of interest and gain readers and beat George in the ratings battle. Then suddenly my brilliant brain exploded, my readers want to read about ME! Why not I’m an interesting fellow, I lead a life of day-to-day courage, a life of survival of the fittest, you see I live with three over the edge, brain damaged cats and over protective parents. Read of my terrible situation and my courage when faced with life’s challenges. Tell your friends and help me win the ratings battle.

BAD DAY!

Bad day, no, not a bad day a horrible day is what it was. I was dragged to the mean lady doctor again. This time my parents tried to make things right with me by buying me a king-size cat carrier. I don’t like the carrier no matter what size it is; its use is strictly for my transportation to the mean lady doctor’s office for a series of terrible procedures. Once a year I get taken for a series of injections with a blunt needle. Today I was whisked away from my home for what reason no one bothered to tell me. You see I knew it wasn’t time for my yearly injections I keep up with such things so I can prepare myself in advance for the terrible needle and for the horrible car ride, you see I get car sick and that ain’t good. So when my folks whisked me away in my new carrier I knew something terrible was about to happen to me and I wasn’t wrong.

As soon as we got to the lady doctor’s office I knew I was in serious trouble. Mom was almost in tears and Dad looked terrible sad. “Be a good boy Rigo,” said my Mom. “We’ll come for you in a little while, be a good boy.” It’s a good thing Mom told me she’d be back for me or I’d have thought maybe my time was up on this good earth. The next thing I knew my parents were out the door and the lady who works in the office grabbed my carrier and away I went to a waiting room. Waiting is a terrible thing and I didn’t even know what I was waiting for, though I knew it wasn’t going to be good. They don’t hand out cat treats in the waiting room this I knew for certain because I’d been there many times. What did the mean lady doctor have planned for me today, the last time my parents said goodbye and left me with her I lost a very personal thing, something no boy cat should ever lose if you get my drift.

As I was thinking things over and speculating on what my fate was to be this time the door opened and in walked doctor death. Sometimes horrible things can come in pretty packages as with the mean lady doctor. She looks so pretty, nice as can be she is until she whams you in the behind with the blunt needle. What she had in store for me today I dreaded to think. “And how are you today Rigo?” She asked so kindly as she opened the carrier door. I was now as far back in the carrier as I could make myself go. Her hand reached in a yanked me from my hiding place and onto the examining table. Before I could make my move down came her hand with the blunt needle and wham it went into my behind. I let out a scream that could be heard all over town, “Now, Rigo that wasn’t so bad you’ll feel better real soon,” she said patting my head. I wasn’t feeling bad until I hit her office and the needle hit my behind. My head was beginning to swim, what was wrong with me, what did she do to me I wondered as my head swam even more and I slowly sank down on the table. Something terrible was about to happen to me I knew but somehow I didn’t seem to care anymore. Everything was drifting away and I could barely keep my eyes open then it was lights out.

I don’t know what happened after that but when I began to wake up I had a strange feeling something was wrong with my behind I could feel a definite draft on my behind and back legs. I must be dreaming I thought I never felt drafty back there before. Relax, Rigo I said to myself Mom is coming soon and everything will be okay. I was still only half awake when I opened my mouth to yawn. My teeth felt funny, my teeth never felt funny before they felt a little sore had I been eating something hard while I slept? No, impossible, one doesn’t eat while sleeping though I think I could if it was my favorite jumbo green olives with the little red worm stuffed inside. Still, my teeth felt very strange and I had a definite mint breath. “Rigo, wake up your Mom just called and she wants to come and pick you up,” said a lady I could barely see through squinty eyes.

“Let’s go, Rigo,” said the lady as she helped me into my carrier. “He’ll be good as new,” said the mean lady doctor who had just entered the room to greet my parents who had arrived to take me home. “Come, let’s go home Rigo,” said Mom as Dad picked up my carrier and took me to the car. My head had stopped spinning and was becoming more awake when the car pulled into the garage and Mom said, “We’re home Rigo.”

Yes, I was home at last, Mom opened the carrier door and out I came rather slowly because I still wasn’t quite myself. There it was again the draft on my behind and back legs and the mint breath what had happened to me? It wasn’t until I staggered up to Mom’s standing mirror that I saw to my horror what the mean lady doctor had done to me. She had taken her wicked razor and ripped the seat out of my pants. I let out a shriek heard all over town.

“She did it to me again, she did it to me again I screamed.” My pants were gone what was I to do Peppy and the girls will make fun of me, I’ll never regain my dignity I sobbed. Mom was there and took me in her arms, “It’s all right Rigo, don’t cry you look really cute,” she said while cuddling me in her arms. I didn’t look cute I looked awful. “Rigo, have you noticed your pretty white teeth, the nice doctor cleaned them for you today, you look so good and your breath has a nice mint scent,” cooed Mom.

Cleaned my teeth, took the seat out of my pants and whacked me with a blunt needle. All this happened to me within a few hours with the mean lady doctor. Such is my life; I’m ruined! The PETA police are never around when you need them.

Please stay tuned for the next installment of the life and times of Rigoletto.

God Bless,
Rigo

2005-03-28T16:10:00.000-08:00

THE SUPER SNOOPER
News From Around The World And Beyond

ATTENTION, ATTENTION Don’t click that mouse and move to another blog please, please read MY blog so I don’t have to kill myself and make the world suffer because they treated me so badly. Read of my terrible situation, please take pity on me and read my blog. I do so want to make good and make my family and George proud of me. Please become a faithful reader you won’t be sorry I promise. HELP ME, HELP ME!

COMMENTARY
I’m devastated, simply devastated. My friend and fellow blogger George told me nobody is reading my brilliant blog. This devastating news blew the roof of my mind off the top of my head. George is very clever his blog ratings are through the roof while mine are in a mud hole. I’m miserable, my heart is broken into a million pieces and my tail do drag no one is reading my blog; woe is me!

What can I do my family is in despair my Mama cries all the time Dad tries to cheer us all up but nothing works it’s doom and gloom time at our house. I think George put me in the wrong category on the Blog sign up sheet, he put me under pets/animals everyone who knows me knows I’m not a pet or animal that’s for the girls and Peppy not me, I’m Rigoletto Super Cat. Cats are not animals everyone knows that cats are superior beings with the exception of the girls and Peppy they are beasts, monsters they fit into no known category.

Peppy and the girls are happy my ratings are low they make fun of me when my parents aren’t around but it’s all jealousy because they have no talent and no blog so they want to make me miserable so maybe I’ll kill myself and then one of them devils will take over my blog. Let one of them furry, spiteful devils on the blogger superhighway and the entire world will be in danger. You don’t know anything about terrorist until you have a run in with Baby, Callie and the once down and out street beast Peppy. They could give OBL instructions.

Such is my life I live with monsters. My life wasn’t always this way I was an only cat until grandma moved to the retirement home and they wouldn’t let her beasts move in with her so my parents had to take them or grandma would have cried buckets of tears, now I’m crying barrels of tears and my life has become very twisted. Baby and Callie are south of the border Tex-Mex girls with chili pepper tempers. I don’t really think they’re Tex-Mex but aliens from another planet whose space ship crashed and they found their way to my grandma’s doorstep.

The next most horrible was when my parents took in that down and out drifter Peppy. He has made my life a living hell! Excuse the bad word and please don’t tell my Mom and Dad or more terrible things will happen to me. Peppy is much smaller then me and the girls because he was so poor with no one to care for him he lived on bugs, birds and things, whatever he could catch to survive. Then the dreadful day came when Mom and Dad noticed him living in our backyard under a bush. My parents felt sorry for him and began giving him food, water and whatever else he wanted because he was so thin. Then Peppy began to thrive, he put on weight, blew up like a balloon he did. Next he told my parents he wanted to live with us, said he needed a good home so, without another word the deed was done, my parents adopted him and he’s been living with us ever since. Woe is me!

Peppy has tried to take everything I hold dear, my “King Sleeps Here” pillow that sis made just for me, he tried to take that away from me, and Mit the old almost dead oven mit my parents gave me when I was a kitten he tried to take it too, the little runt is a menace. You see I’m a nice guy, easy going, I don’t like fights but if that little monster don’t behave one day I’ll have to take action and sit on him and smash him flat like road kill.

So you see I had an escape in my blog I could write my commentaries and my troubles would melt away. But then George gave me the bad news and I’ve been in the dumps ever since. But I’m not a quitter, I’ll find a way to draw readers to my exciting blog and mark my words one of these days I’ll be as famous as my wonderful name Rigoletto from the great opera of the same name. Yes, the world will want to read every exciting word I write. Wouldn’t it be great if I could do an interview with Bill O’Reilly and Larry King or get on a circuit of talk shows, that would really get my name smeared all over the world, what a blast that would be, I’d be famous instantly.

Another exciting idea swept into my truly amazing brain maybe I should write the President and ask him what to do. Presidents are amazing people they have brillant brains how else could they run the country so well. Former President Clinton has an amazing brain he wants to become President of the UN and rule the world one day he couldn’t do that unless he had a truly amazing brain. I think President Bush just wants to retire one day to his ranch in Texas and let his brain rest. But my guess is his wife won’t let him she’ll have him do little fix-up jobs around the house like my daddy does and of course he’ll have to mow the lawn. His Dad former President Bush has taken to jumping out of airplanes so his wife can’t catch him for lawn mowing and such; he has a truly creative brain.

Anyway, I think I should write the President he knows people all over the world, yes I may write the President and ask him what I should do about my blog.

Until next time may God bless you and yours,
Rigo

2005-03-13T15:23:00.000-08:00

THE SUPER SNOOPER
News From Around The World And Beyond

COMMENTARY

Rigo’s Culinary Review

Emeril Live – Emeril Lagasse top culinary, Master Chef of the world. Has his own show and live band, Doc Gibbs and his guys you can’t beat them or Emeril for good food and entertainment.

OLIVES is the food feast of the night and nobody, but nobody loves olives like me. I can be asleep, Mom can open a jar of olives, and like the speed of light I’m there for my treat, yummy, delicious olives, oh yeah babe Emeril is cookin’ tonight.

First he delights his audience with where olives are grown SPAIN, hence Spanish Olives. Of course olives are grown elsewhere like California and other places, but true Spanish olives come from Spain and that’s where Rigo wants to go and find his own olive tree. But NO Emeril says you can’t pick them and eat them from the tree, they’re terrible fresh, they must first be cured of their freshness. He even brought a branch off an olive tree for all to see what fresh olives look like. He hasn’t convinced me, I still want my own olive tree in Spain.

Next are the pitted green olives, oh yeah babe, the olives must be pitted and stuffed with pimento. Pimento is where he got into trouble with me; olives are not stuffed with pimento but with a delicious little red worm oh yeah babe me knows what olives are all about, kicked-up is what they are. Then there is the black olive it died on the tree; me being an olive connoisseur I should know don’t buy that kind you be wastin’ your money.

Then there is the olive oil; the best is extra virgin it has the most flavor and comes from the first pressing of the olives that’s the one Mom uses most of the time. There are different grades of olive oil but all goes down hill after the extra virgin, might as well throw the rest out the back door, water your garden with the stuff maybe olive trees will grow.

Now we get to the cookin’ that’s what Emeril does best. What a chef, he makes you want to eat what he cooks up every night. He always tells us to call the cable company and ask for smell-a-vision, I not only want smell-a-vision, I want taste-a-vision, oh yeah babe, BAM, BAM!

Emeril’s first tasty dish of the evening wasn’t a dish at all it was a Dirty Martini with Blue Cheese-Almond Stuffed Olives. Ruined, ruined the wonderful olives. He threw away the little red worm and stuffed the olives with blue cheese and almonds and then drowned it all in alcohol, drunkin olives is what you got, terrible, terrible, BAM, BAM, kick it out, not up, a true New Orleans cocktail where everyone gets drunk. People in New Orleans live in a big hole with the river above them so they stay drunk trying to find a way up and out. They all have web feet and mud between their toes, but hey who cares the food is great. Me have permission to say all this because my Mom comes from down under. But she worked her way up and out of there and now lives in the mountains with smog-free air and no drippin’ humidly. Remember, Rigo said all this not Emeril, I will get killed not Emeril. I is fearless send me your letters and e-mails, letters, letters, I get lot’s and lot’s of letter’s…..Dear Rigo!

Now back to Emeril Live!

Doc Gibbs and his guy’s blow their horns and bang their drums they must work for their supper. Emeril always let’s them sample his feast of the night he doesn’t want unhappy musicians.

Of course there was the night when the food processor went dead and all the mixers kicked up and out and the knob fell off the stove disaster night is what it was. Then there was the time Emeril forgot the sandwiches he had on the grill burnt to a blacken crisp. Seems he forgot the sandwiches because he was busy talkin’ to Miss New Jersey. Then there was the night when he baked a chocolate layer cake the first layer went well it was when he tried to pick up the second layer that disaster struck. The cake broke, but no matter Emeril just slapped it on top, pressed it down and poured chocolate icing over the whole thing, it was a drippin’ mess, but I bet it tasted wonderful. What a show never a dull moment.

And folks don’t forget to taste the food you’re preparing use seasoning but throw away the red and white can and use the pepper grinder. Taste, taste, taste don’t experiment on your family and friends and don’t forget the knob on the stove it’s put there for a reason, you can turn the heat up and down and in between. Don’t cremate the food these and many more are Emeril’s helpful culinary hints. He even has his own lingo, kick-it-up, oh yeah babe, BAM, BAM, there’s love in the air tonight, the food is happy, happy and of course a very curious one Hilda. Who’s Hilda and where is she? He’s always calling out to Hilda but I’ve never seen her, I think he calls for Hilda after he’s added too much wine or whiskey to the pot, he’s happy, happy and so is the food.

Emeril’s Words Of Wisdom: Pee Cans are for truck drivers. Pecans are to cook with. Always stuff your pockets with roasted garlic when riding the subway it keeps trouble away.

Be sure to tune in Emeril Live and learn how to kick it up!

Until next time God bless you and yours.

Rigo

2005-02-16T11:50:00.000-08:00

THE SUPER SNOOPER
News From Around The World And Beyond

COMMENTARY

Another fish story from the Iron Chef; what can I say except that I’m seriously thinking of becoming a food columnist. Far more interesting than what I find in the newspapers these days. Gourmet food has never interested me I’ve only been concerned with everyday, common variety cat food but now I may be changing I can see how interesting and varied gourmet food can be. Of course my interest cannot be pursued because my parents have different ideas concerning my diet and theirs. My Dad is a great chef himself but he’s certainly not a gourmet chef. He cook’s food people like to eat. Yes, my Dad is a great everyday, common type of chef. His ingredients are the daily kind of stuff like butter, lard, heavy cream you know good stuff like that, but don’t tell the food police or they may come and arrest my Dad and put us kids up for adoption.

Mom and me can’t give up the Iron Chef their food fights are amazing, each episode is more thrilling than the one before. Of course my latest adventure as a food columnist must cover more than the Iron Chef, I must explore all the food programs and report on the best and most interesting of culinary food feasts.

Before I begin my review I must tell my readers the Food Network is great. My taste buds may differ from yours but all the shows are top-of-the-line, high-end, five-star food delights and best of all I’ve given them a G rating which means Good, family friendly and cat friendly shows so turn to the Food Network for top-of-the-line entertainment and let them teach you and your kids how to cook.

RIGO’S REVIEW

The Iron Chef In Kitchen Stadium

Our food fight begins in kitchen stadium a spotless arena of pots and pans, gleaming stoves and all the kitchen equipment a chef could hope for. Our challenger who cooks at a top restaurant or hotel and is also a graduate of a carefully selected culinary school boldly marches into kitchen stadium and glares at the three Iron Chef’s. Which one can he defeat, who will he dare confront? Carefully he makes eyeball contact with each Iron Chef then bravely makes his decision and calls his man to battle. The Iron Chef steps forward and marches bravely toward his stove and the food fight begins.

The culinary catch of the night is a dead Cuttlefish. The Iron Chef and his challenger race to snatch their fish. Each chef frantically slit’s his fish open, guts and yucky stuff pour out onto the cutting board to be pushed aside. Next comes the chopping, most times the fish is hacked to pieces (R-rated) and this is no different. The most interesting part of this fish is his many fingers, fish fingers filled with terrible black ink. The Cuttlefish must be a relative of the Octopus and Squid to have so much bottled ink stored inside. The chef’s race for a bowl and begin to squirt the black ink into the bowl. Soon the bowl is filled with the awful black stuff and set aside, why didn’t they throw the mess away? Because it’s part of tonight’s menu. Yes indeed Cuttlefish ink is part of tonight’s “As The Stomach Churns.”

We have Cuttlefish Ink Soup and Cuttlefish Ink Fried Rice. You think I’m kiddin’ don’t you – better think again. I cannot begin to tell how the chef’s prepared such a delightful feast using as one commentator said “Used Engine Oil.” Surely, this all be a big joke people don’t eat fish ink do they??? On this show they do, yes indeed it’s a delicacy never to be forgotten.

Each chef prepared five gold star dishes for their tasting party. I don’t remember the other dishes only the ones with fish ink. The chef’s worked madly to prepare ink soup and ink fried rice, the suspense was killin’, what were they putting into the ink soup and fried rice? No one could tell because all was covered in the black engine oil – mystery food!

Suddenly the count down began, time was running out each chef rushed to finish his dishes, the buzzer rang the end had come, which chef would win? Now the real fun began, the tasting party. Who were these people with cast-iron stomachs, where did they find them, who of them would brave the ink soup and fried rice?

The first taster dipped his spoon into the blackness, I quote “It’s like eating something in total darkness,” he said. Of course, the chef was hiding things like eyeballs and who knows what else in the mystery soup. Next, came the ink fried rice looking like a mound of yucky motor oil. Yuck food for certain, no self-respecting cat would ever touch it. But the human did and slowly a faint smile came across his face, “I like it, delicious,” he said smiling big time.

I was shaking my head and Mom was laughing so hard I feared she would fall off her chair. Dad came to see what was happening, “It’s the food fight show, a real good one tonight,” I said. One by one each taster tried the dishes, bright smiles covered their faces “very refreshing,” they said. “Delightful,” said another, one nice lady rolled her eyeballs before tasting the ink rice, this is it I thought she’s going to chicken out, she ain’t going eat that tasty treat. But somehow she did and managed to smile and give it her approval. Not one taster got sick or threw up at the table - remarkable.

Then it was time to see who won, would it be the Iron Chef or the challenger. The tension was tremendous; anxiety filled the stadium, would the Iron Chef win? The challenger was confident he had won the battle HIS ink soup and fried rice was the finest. The moment had come, the master of ceremonies appeared with a solemn face. The IRON CHEF triumphed! He cooked up the best ink soup and fried rice. He would return to kitchen stadium for another food fight.

We don’t know what happened to the challenger did he lose his job at the restaurant? Would he be sent back to culinary school? We don’t know what happens to challengers, they just disappear; check your local diner they may be cookin’ up hash browns there.

Until next time – God Bless,

Rigo!

2005-02-06T14:13:00.000-08:00

THE SUPER SNOOPER
News From Around The World And Beyond

SPECIAL REPORT

Another fish story – I know, I know I’m suppose to report on newspaper articles but what’s happening on the food channel is far more interesting and I am a freelance reporter so that means I can report on anything I see or read so settle down and enjoy another fish story.

This time it was Cod cooked up as more yuck food on TV. The fish thank goodness was dead when it arrived on the table with its head still on and blank staring eyes, what a sad site. No matter the Iron Chef’s were happy and the battle began.

One chef yanked out his butcher knife and slit open his fish. What happened next was worst than yuck. Fish guts spilled out all over the table, what a terrible mess.

Next the chef began scooping up the awful stuff into bowls and cookware to make a dreadful broth. He took the poor dead fish and began to cut the fish into slabs it was after all a big fish. Then he took a huge slab of Cod and threw it onto some dough he’d made earlier we don’t know what the dough was made from more yucky stuff I quite sure. Now the fish was resting on the yucky dough and the chef took bamboo leaves and began covering the fish with the leaves tons and tons of leaves he used to cover the poor dead fish may he rest in peace. Next, and you won’t believe this he took and covered everything with a paper towel. He then took the dough and wrapped the entire thing in the dough, leaves, paper towel and all.

Then he rushed off and came back with an armful of straw – yes, I said straw. He threw the straw on the floor and chopped some off with a machete, all the while stomping on the straw with his dirty shoes. Then he grabs an armful of the straw and begins to wrap the fish with it, remember his dirty shoes, no bother to him because he then sets the whole thing on fire. Yes, I said fire, a roaring furnace he had going I thought he was going to burn the place down, call the fire department; no it was part of his act.

Charred fish burnt to a crisp was what he had when the fire died down. But not to worry he was a happy chef he peeled away some of the burnt straw then ran and got a platter, took a big spoon and dug into the mess he made and scooped out a pile of the stuff and slapped it on the platter happy as could be. Don’t forget the paper towel it didn’t burn up it was wrapped nicely inside the dough. What possible flavor the paper towel provided I’ll never know because thank goodness I didn’t have to eat it but somebody did totally unaware they were eating paper towel, bamboo leaves and fish, what a delightful dish.

I could report on stomach puddin’ and other delights of the night but I don’t want to make my readers sick. Why do people eat gourmet food? Mom and me have been watching The Iron Chef for a while now and we’ve never seen a thing they cook up we’d put in our mouth; it’s terrible stuff. They always use guts, innards, leaves, and such as you wouldn’t believe. But hey, it’s a great show, a real battle between gourmet chefs so tune it in sometime and just be happy you eat at home.

Make mine fish out of a can.

Until next time – God Bless,
Rigo

2005-01-25T13:52:00.000-08:00

THE SUPER SNOOPER - News From Around The World And Beyond

NEWS FLASH!

Attention PETA Police

Cooking show chops head off live catfish. Its true Mom and me were watching a cooking show last night when suddenly the top chef yanks a live catfish from a bucket of water onto a cutting board. The poor fish was trying to escape when wham the chef chopped his head off in front of the audience and my Mom. It was terrible, Mom let out a scream and I buried my face in my paws.

When I recovered I tried to comfort Mom who was still shaking from the shock of seeing the fish killed in front of her eyes. I reminded her Dad is a fisherman and brings fish home all the time, only Dad is smart and never let’s Mom see the fish before it’s ready for the frying pan.

But the chef wasn’t that smart nor was he finished with his night of horrors. He took the dead fish’s backbone and stuck it as a decoration on a plate of gourmet food he’d cooked up and served to an un-suspecting guest whom I’m quite sure got food poisoning.

Rule: Never eat gourmet food always eat everyday food with lot’s of garlic to keep you healthy and lot’s of oil to keep your skin from drying out. Cheeseburgers cooked in grease with lots of dripping cheese and cheese fries aid in keeping your skin nice and healthy. Never mind the heart attack that could possibly kill you, at least you’ll look good in the casket.

Now back to the cooking show. The crazy host leaps in, grabs another fish from a bucket of water, and holds it in front of the camera while the poor fish gasps for air and prays for his bucket of water. The shameless host then proceeds to describe the type of fish he’s holding (catfish) all the while Mom and me are screaming at him to put the fish back in the bucket before he too dies before our eyes.

It was a horrible, painful night of cooking let me tell you. I’ll not reveal the name of the cooking program (it has the word “iron” in the title.) I think the PETA police will come soon and shut this grisly program down.

Let me make one thing perfectly clear the fish was a catfish. The key word here is fish, not cat so no one will be confused.

I’ll keep you posted on anymore-ghastly episodes of this show, the FCC will hear from me.

Catch you, bad choice of words - until next time.

God Bless,
Rigo

2005-01-05T16:30:00.000-08:00

THE SUPER SNOOPER
News From Around The World And Beyond

BREAKING NEWS

I reported yesterday the story of a wandering kangaroo in Wisconsin I also commented that I didn’t believe the report I thought people were seeing things in their wine glass. Alas! I was wrong; there really was a kangaroo wandering the highways of Wisconsin. Today he was captured in a barn trying to escape the frigid Wisconsin weather. Zoo officials in Madison planned to pick up the kangaroo and care for it.

I shall be more careful of kangaroo stories in the future.

Catch you next time.
God Bless,
Rigo

2005-01-04T16:50:00.000-08:00

THE SUPER SNOOPER

NEWS FROM AROUND THE WORLD

AND BEYOND

Personal Note

This reporter had a wonderful Christmas with lots of great cat toys to enjoy; and Mom fixed one of my favorite meals Alpo Beef and Gerber Baby Food Beef with gravy mixed together is a great cat dinner. But take note not too much Gerber Beef. Mom mixed one small can of cat food and one jar of Baby beef for four cats, so if you are only serving one or two cats adjust accordingly.

Now that my vacation is over, it’s back to work scanning the world for headline news.

News Flash

Dorothy Marie Takes A Stroll

Dorothy Marie is a 300-pound potbellied pig and on Christmas Eve Dorothy decided to take a little walk in the freezing rain, it seems her family went on a Christmas holiday without Dorothy Marie. Ice was everywhere when a neighbor spotted the 300-pound pig walking down the icy street. The police arrived with cookies with hopes she would follow them back to her home. She wouldn’t move for anybody until vanilla wafers and animal crackers were offered.

Folks, I think Dorothy Marie outsmarted them all!

NEWS FLASH

Police Search For Kangaroo

Police in Dodgeville, Wis. are searching for a wandering Kangaroo. The animal was seen walking along rural highways in southwestern Wisconsin. Folks in that area were apprehensive to report it because they didn’t want to be made fun of said the police department. The police are taking the kangaroo reports seriously and are urging people not to approach the 150-pound animal with large hind legs and a mean kick.

Sorry guy’s I’m not buying this story, I think someone had much too much of New Year’s cheer and started seeing kangaroo’s in their wine glass.

2004-12-17T13:57:00.000-08:00

MERRY CHRISTMAS
FROM THE SUPER SNOOPER
News From Around The World And Beyond

COMMENTARY

Why are some PC people trying so hard to take away Christmas? Why do they want no mention of the baby Jesus? I’m only a cat but my folks and me like Christmas and the baby Jesus why are some trying to take him away from us.

Without Christmas there would be no Christmas cards. I don’t want a Winter Holiday, Season’s Greeting or Happy Holiday cards I want Merry Christmas, the baby Jesus, the three wise men, the manger and all the rest, I WANT CHRISTMAS BACK!

Think how sad it would be for the greeting card companies, the department stores if we who love Christmas didn’t buy cards or gifts why they would cry buckets of tears and all because Christmas was taken away. Think about it humans you can take Christmas back if you want to. Home made Christmas cards are nice and so are home-made gifts such as cookies, candies and so on I’m sure you can think of many things to give for Christmas without going to a lot of trouble and think how very special it would be to friends and family to give a home-made gift. Let’s take Christmas back!

And don’t forget about Easter, its Easter, not spring break or spring anything folks it’s Easter, it’s always been Easter and always will be Easter if we fight to keep it from being taken away from us.

I don’t know about you, but as for me I’m sick of the PC humans.

MERRY CHRISTMAS
Rigo

News Flash

Rigo will be taking his Christmas vacation, he’ll return after New Year’s.

2004-12-03T13:45:00.000-08:00

Opera Tenors Are Never Dull

THE SUPER SNOOPER - News From Around The World And Beyond

2004-12-03T13:17:00.000-08:00

SPECIAL REPORT

In the last issue of the Super Snooper I reported opera singer Luciano Pavarotti would “sing again another day.” This reporter was correct; Mr. Pavarotti announced one day later (Dec. 1, 2004) that he would make a farewell concert tour of the world. Mr. Pavarotti isn’t certain when or where the concert tour will end, “when they are finished, or I am finished,” he said. I predict he will never be finished nor will the world be finished with Mr. Pavarotti.

This reporter though a young and inexperienced journalist is very smart, so I will make another prediction; I predict The Three Tenor’s will also sing again. One last final blow out for the world to enjoy. Go buy a ticket it’s a done deal.

Warning -
Before purchasing a Pavarotti concert ticket make certain if concert is cancelled you get refund. Mr. Pavarotti is very famous for calling in sick. You may be seated in theatre anxiously waiting for Mr. Pavarotti to come and sing for you, when suddenly the theatre manager appears announcing Mr. P. has called in sick – the flu bug has struck yet again.

To my knowledge Mr. P. has never called in sick for a Three Tenor’s concert. My thinking is Mr. Carreras and Domingo threatened him with certain death by Spanish flu.

THE SUPER SNOOPER - News From Around The World And Beyond

2004-11-30T11:24:00.000-08:00

NEWS ALERT

Leaf Rage – Man arrested in leaf rage incident. For 34 years a town in Connecticut has refused to pick up man’s dead leaves. Why you may ask when his neighbors leaves are picked up, because leaves were piled on his property, left to die, and not left to create mess in the street. Man has had dead leaves piled in his yard for 34 years and the town wonders why he got mad. He spit and swore at city workers (no way to make friends,) so they called out the cops and had the poor fellow arrested. They charged him with a breach of peace and now he has to appear in court could go to jail and all because of 34-year-old dead leaves. But city officials say if he’d ask politely they would have picked up his leaves. What do you think?

NEWS FLASH

Foxes Win! London – Britain has outlawed fox hunting in England and Wales. Hooray! For the foxes, no more run to death by the hounds. How would you like to be chased by a pack of angry hounds? Believe me being a cat I can certainly see the point of view of the poor fox.

BREAKING NEWS

Venice’s historic opera house has reopened with a gala performance of Giuseppe Verdi’s (English - Joe Green) La Traviata. It took eight years to rebuild the opera house that was completely destroyed by a fire that raged all night. Why did the opera house burn to the ground? Because of a lack of water, the canals around the theatre situated in the center of a lagoon were bone dry.

I do think I spell something rotten here. Italian electricians start opera house fire at just the time when the city drained the lagoons dry. Me think electricians and city officials were in it together. Now I know most people don’t like the opera but in Italy opera is king, like native son Pavarotti. So why did they burn the opera house down, so the city could collect money, opera had to be held in a circus tent on a city owned parking lot during the years of rebuilding. Imagine, having to hold grand opera in a circus tent what a horror.

Folks, those officials really cashed in big time. Now they’re collecting more money by charging hundreds of tourists tons of money to pass through a silent, empty opera house.

COMMENTARY

Why do people fear opera, I was raised on it. From the time my parents brought me home I’ve heard nothing but opera, classical music or Perry Como. I’ve heard of something called rock, but if I even mention it to Mom she has a fainting spell and appears to be dead until I promise never to mention the word again.

The people who sing opera are the very best singers in the entire world with the exception of Mr. Como who was the best singer of popular music. I know most Americans don’t understand opera because of the language difference. Pay no attention to that just listen to the beauty of the music and to the fine strong voices of the singers. If you want to know the story or the libretto of the opera go to your local library and check out a book on opera. Check out a video or DVD of an opera, most opera’s have subtitles so you can follow the story.

Mom was introduced to opera by The Three Tenors (Carreras, Domingo & Pavarotti.) They are the best singers in the world, the very finest of the fine. I say this because it’s true, not because I can be bribed with free concert tickets but if anyone knows these guys please tell them to send expensive front row center ticket my way. Mom got to go to one of their concerts a few years ago in Washington, D.C., believe me it wasn’t easy, she had to track them all over the world before she could find a ticket she and Dad could afford, you don’t get three for the price of one. No, these guys are gold plated tenors you don’t get to hear them for nothin’. So guys if you’re out there reading this how about sending Rigo and his Mom a free ticket. I am after all named Rigoletto because of you.

NEWS FLASH – I think the guy’s have split, called it a day. Mr. Pavarotti has retired, but I personally think he’ll be back to sing another day. His former manager has written a book “The King & I” which I’ll review for you after the holidays.

Mr. Carreras and Mr. Domingo are still going around the world doing opera’s and concerts they’ll sing until there’s not another note of music left for them to sing and that will make the entire world happy.

Mr. Como I’m sad to say passed away in 2001. He was a great singer and a very nice man.

NEWS RELEASE

Wax museum founder Madame Marie Tussaud’s birthday, 1761. Make a wish and blow out Elvis, Madonna and Jimmy Carter. What is this, they want to melt Elvis, Madonna and our beloved Jimmy Carter surely this can’t be so folks. This was from our local paper so I can’t give out the name for fear they may melt.

That’s it folks, catch you next time at Rigo’s Place.
God bless you,

Rigo

2004-11-19T15:04:00.000-08:00

THE SUPER SNOOPER - News From Around The World And Beyond

Correction:
This reporter made an error in last weeks report. I reported the Clinton Library would open in Small Rock, AR. I was informed by reliable sources that the city is Little Rock. What difference does it make, small or little it must not a very big. But I must be accurate in my reporting.

COMMENTARY:

Clinton Library opened in Little Rock, AR. Yes, the Clinton Library is officially open to one and all. Folks, it rained, it poured on Clinton’s big day all was wet and gloomy but it didn’t stop the famous from attending. Former Presidents Bush #1, Carter and President Bush #2 came flying in for Clinton’s big day. They had to it was their duty to attend, all presidents unless sick or dead have to attend library openings no matter whose library it may be, no matter if they don’t like him they are forced by law to come otherwise nobody would be there.

President’s Bush #1 is so cool; he’s my kind of guy. He’s eighty years old and likes jumping out of airplanes, with his shoot on of course. Caution don’t try it without one. I’d like to go sky-diving with him one day, if anyone out there knows President Bush ask him if he’d take me sky diving. Tell him I think he’s a real cool guy.

President Carter was there of course; he’d be there even if he weren’t invited. He’s always sticking his nose where it don’t belong. Poor fellow is so puffed up and full of himself I fear he may explode. He reminds me of the emperor in the old fairy tale the Emperor’s New Clothes, parading around for the entire world to see without a stitch on.

Then there’s President Bush #2 I can’t talk about him while he’s still in office he may send his hounds after me; anyway the poor guy has enough troubles.

It was a real bash, a high-end affair, movie stars, rock singers and big band music even royalty came out in the pouring rain to celebrate Clinton’s big day. All came to open his library on the Arkansas River. Folks have you seen his library? Sorry to say I think it looks like a jacked up trailer house or as The Economist magazine stated a “glorified house trailer,” Even John Gibson of Fox News compared it to a double wide trailer house. The vote is in it looks like a trailer house, a trailer house that at anytime may just slide into the river never to be seen again.

NEWS FLASH:

Boy Scouts under attack from ACLU. Yes, the Boy Scouts have come under fire from the ACLU they want them off all military bases because they love God and country. It’s not acceptable to love God and country anymore no indeed it might be a bad influence on our military men and women. Folks, me think the ACLU is out of touch with America, what do you think. Let’s all call the ACLU and let them know we think. Yes, burn up the phone lines, jam them with calls let them know they’re out of touch with America and God will get them one fine day.

COMMENTARY:

Another crazy! PETA, yes the PETA folks are at it again this time it’s the fish. We are not to eat fish anymore because it’s cruel to the fish. No more fishing allowed. Now this is certainly upsetting to me, as I am non-human, I’m a cat and all cats love fish. What am I suppose to do, I love fish guts, one of my favorite foods. My Dad’s a fisherman and he is not happy about this let me tell you. PETA people get your head on straight; leave the fish thing alone before they lock you up in the looney house.

Now I tell you a good thing to do: protect all geese and ducks foreign and domestic. I had a friend who lived at a lake near our house. He was a domestic goose, who went by the name of Big Boy, he and his flock became good friends of my parents. Then the state decided to make the area where Big Boy and his flock lived into a nice pretty park. Geese as you know can be a little messy, but geese are geese and it’s not their fault when nature calls they must go and since no private facilities are provided for them they “go” where they please. This didn’t please park officials and now the geese and most of the ducks are gone. Domestic geese are not protected from harm or being up and moved elsewhere. Little children came and played with them, gave them food all was happy but not anymore the geese are gone, but the park is nice and clean.

And that’s the news as me see it.

Coming up next time Venice Opera House reopens; Foxes Win, Leaf Rage and many more exciting articles from your feline reporter.

Catch you next time and may God bless you and yours.

Rigo

2004-11-12T15:11:00.000-08:00

Today's News

THE SUPER SNOOPER

2004-11-12T13:36:00.000-08:00

NEWS RELEASE – Special Report

This reporter has the scoop of a lifetime. Me has it from secret sources that former President Clinton wants to be Secretary General of the United Nations. In other words he wants to be King Of The World!

The U.S. gave him retirement with big fat pay check, plus security guards, plush office in New York City, not Arkansas they won’t let him back in the state. Now he be tired of doin’ nothin’ but roamin’ the world lookin’ for a home so he decided he’d make the whole world his home.

Kofi Anna who’s the king now is near retirement and plans to buy and island somewhere in the middle of an ocean but won’t say where. He doesn’t want any drop by company. He wants to BE ALONE and who could blame him the world hasn’t been all that good to him because when you’re king of the world you get blamed for anything that goes wrong anywhere in the world and right now the world is in a real mess and it’s all his fault. So, he plans to buy his island and turn the world over to Clinton. Talk about troubles, folks you ain’t seen nothin’ yet!

NEWS FLASH!

2004-11-12T13:35:00.001-08:00

Bill Clinton library due to open next week in Small Rock, Arkansas. Yes, my sources tell me they let Clinton in state for 24Hr.s then he has to go. This be big shindig for Arkansas, people come from around the world. Yes, Clinton library is almost ready to rock and roll on the big Arkansas River. Sources also tell me that Monica may attend ceremony as guest of honor and to sit next to Hillary, and then the fireworks will begin with a world-class bang. My thoughts are the library will find itself in the middle of the river along with Billy boy.

NEWS FLASH!

2004-11-12T13:35:00.000-08:00

Hillary Clinton will run for U.S. President in 2008. That’s what my sources tell me folks you can take it to the bank. Mrs. Clinton wants to be President and her husband Bill wants to rule the world through the UN. Can you imagine what the world will be like with Bill and Hill running it? Is there anyway I can buy a ticket to another planet?

COMMENTARY

2004-11-12T13:34:00.000-08:00

Don’t miss my friend George’s Freeware Review Blog. Great Blog with lot’s of free stuff. George not charge you anything it’s FREE folks, FREE so take a look see at GEORGE’S FREEWARE REVIEW.

George is responsible for this reporter’s Blog. He saw my potential as a journalist and decided to connect me to the world. Yes, my good buddy George is responsible for it all, yes indeed.

I’ve never been to journalism school, matter of fact I’ve never been to school. I’m a cat and very smart so no need for school. But I learned the five W’s of journalism, who, what, where, when and why from an old sitcom “Perfect Strangers” they taught me all I need to know about journalism. I always dreamed of working for a big metropolitan newspaper but no need for that anymore, not with my own column going to press anytime I want to report the news and no deadline to meet, I just connect to the Blogger superhighway and I’m the journalist I always dreamed of being and George made it all possible. So folks support George’s Blog, it’s free. Show him your appreciation for making my journalism skill’s shine.

Catch you next time.

God Bless,
Rigo

NEWS ALERT!

2004-10-21T13:59:00.000-07:00

LIVING ON THE EDGE, this reporter had a very traumatic experience this morning. I fear for my life from banshee devil cat Callie she’s jealous now that I have my own Blogger site and has threatened to terminate me. I’ve taken to sleeping in my office to protect my computer from any hacking she may try and do. But about dawn I creep from my office to sleep under the table with long tablecloth by Mom’s bed. I feel I’m protected here from she devil Callie as she’s not allowed to enter Mom’s room or Mom will slam her with the fly swatter.

This morning I was fast asleep having peaceful dreams for a change, when Mom wakes up looks around the room for this reporter. I’m nowhere to be seen. Mom thinks to herself I wonder if Rigo is under the table, so very quietly she lifts the table skirt and slides her hand under the table to see if this reporter is sleeping there.

Readers, me was scared out of all me nine lives let me tell you. When her hand touched me I thought I was dead meat. I thought banshee devil Callie had me. I shot out from under the table almost knocking the table over and cracking my head in the process. I made a mad dash into the hall with fur standing on ends.

When I looked back Mom was laughing so hard she almost fell out of the bed. “Rigo, it was only me. I’m the one who touched you, please come back.” I no will come back, I no trust anyone again. I be sleeping minding my own business when me get scared out of my mind by my own Mom.

I’m so traumatized fighting for my life that I can barely think much less write my column. I need a bottle of tranquilizers I need help. What should I do move out? Where would I go, I need my office and computer to stay in touch with the world. But my life is in constant danger I don’t know how much longer I can last. To be continued…..

PET ALERT!

Attention pet owners of the world. Winter is fast approaching and your family friends will need a place to stay dry and cozy during the winter months. If your furry friends are not allowed inside (shame on you.) you will need to make a shelter for them. A large cardboard box wrapped with plastic or placed in a protected area will do nicely. Fill the box with pine straw or old blankets, towels, etc., will help keep your family friends warm this winter. Better still a doghouse (cat’s don’t fuss this will keep you warm and dry.) So let’s not forget our furry friends remember they depend on you.

Note From Editor: My Mom wanted to write an opinion piece, so folks hold on to your hat Mom’s about to blow the roof of your mind off the top of your head.

SENIOR CITIZEN ALERT! – From Rigo’s Mom, senior citizen

When may I ask did good manners, consideration of other cease to exist. Why has this generation of seniors forgotten the basic rules of good manners? When did it become a “me first” attitude? When did it become “I’ll do as I please and you can’t stop me?” What kind of example does this kind of behavior set for the younger generation? Were you taught this kind of behavior by your parents, I think not. Did you teach this kind of behavior to your children, I think not. Why then seniors are you guilty of this pattern of behavior? Think upon it; think of what you’re doing, I can assure you it isn’t a pretty sight.

Examples

Senior group on bus tour complains loudly to restaurant manager about the food being horrible. The only thing horrible was their attitude. The food was very good. Shame on you!

To the woman in the buffet line who almost knocked down a young woman whose only crime was standing in line while you so rudely charged in ahead of her. You’ll never know how close you came to verbal abuse by her husband.

To the seniors who chose to visit for two hours without calling first, rule, always be considerate of your friends and call before appearing at your door for a long visit.

To the seniors who were coming from out of town and arrived a day early without notifying you, saying lamely, “Oh, we don’t know what we’re doing.” I say, if you don’t know what your doing stay at home with the door tightly locked until you DO know what your doing.

Now the best for last, to the senior who came uninvited into your home announcing he could come whenever he wanted and you couldn’t stop him. That’s right, it really happened I didn’t make it up. What can you say to such a poor soul except “leave, go, get out, hopefully never to return.”

It seems to me a basic course in good manners is needed.

Rigo: She had to say it, now to the lighter side.

THE SUPER SNOOPER

The Super Snooper takes on zillionaire real estate mogul Mr. Donald Trump. What a cool guy he has his own gleaming presidential helicopter with TRUMP splashed all over it. He owns super jets that go at the speed of sound. The Trump helicopter is always at the ready parked on top of the Trump building in downtown Manhattan, N.Y.

Last week he called out his helicopter to whisk him to the QVC studio in PA. For an appearance on QVC to promote his book on how to buy a house and no pay for it. And he should know how to get away with it because he’s a real estate tycoon, made zillions without paying for anything.

But this reporter likes him he’s real cool. Have you seen his TV show The Apprentice where he fires everyone in sight? No job security with Mr. Trump, here one day and out the door the next. What a guy! Why isn’t he running for president? He’d make a great one and since he has his own fleet of helicopters and super speed jet planes he could be all over the world to handle any crisis and we the people wouldn’t have to pay for his transportation – save big bucks. Trump for President, what a great idea, why he could fire the world and that’s not a bad idea the way the world do turn. If anyone should see Mr. Trump be sure to tell him Rigo says Hi!

To the folks in the U.S.A don’t forget to vote. Vote for me, your kids and grandchildren, vote what you believe in your heart, our nation depends on what’s in your heart. May God Bless The U.S.A.

“Because God is with us, we need not fear what lies ahead.”
Unknown

Rigo

2004-10-15T14:47:00.001-07:00

Relaxin'

Hello World, Rigo Here!

2004-10-15T13:39:00.000-07:00

First, I must say hello to my family and friends, what a shock it must be for you to find me on the Blogger super highway.

Now another word to family and friends. Not to worry Dad made me promise not to use last names BUT to those who make headline news you may not be so lucky. So family and friends don’t make a big smash in the newspapers, magazines, TV or any other media and little me will not publish your full name - now you can sleep at night.

Mom told me I’d be famous someday after all I’m named after a world famous opera. Mom is opera freak! My grammar isn’t always good I’m a cat not a human. Aunt Marion the retired English teacher is always correcting me but I pay no attention to her I do my own thing. But, if any kid out there is reading this remember you are human, you could get into big time trouble with your parents and teacher if you use my kind of English grammar. Be smart don’t do it!!!

I’m a house cat, and not allowed outside, my parents fear for the bird population. I’m not alone inside, no indeed I have siblings such as they are. Baby, Callie and the street cat Peppy. Baby and Callie came to live with us when grandmother moved to the retirement home. She-devil cat’s is what they are with chili pepper tempers. Peppy was a homeless street cat living under a bush in our backyard when Mom found him almost starved. You should see him now he’s so fat Mom had to put him on a diet. In fact Mom put the whole family on a diet – I hate Peppy!

Now that you know about me you may ask what kind of Blogger site is this going to be. I’ve been thinking upon it and being the genius cat that I am I believe I’ll do a weekly column depending on my busy schedule of course, bird watching, etc., etc. Think I’ll tell about some of the things I do or have done around the house such as clearing Mom’s desk with one mighty leap or my near death experience with Dads’ home made tree pole. Yes, that will do for a start. Then of course I’ll report on the news give a commentary, analyze today’s headline news like all those pin head reporters and anchors, of course I’ll always be fair and balanced.

So tune in, don’t miss a single week of Rigo’s Place.

Rigoletto, Editor and Chief Reporter

God Bless