Guest post: Our weekend Tagaytay escape with the humans (The story according to the cats)

Bringing pets to Tagaytay sounded like a really nice idea, so after finding a pet-friendly bed and breakfast where we could all stay together, we did bring along the cats to Tagaytay over the weekend. Apparently, however, the cats weren't too happy with the experience. They talked to me and demanded that I post this account of theirs on their behalf or else they'll release incriminating photos of me that they secretly took while I was in the shower, the toilet, and when I was asleep, among other instances. I can't believe they blackmailed me! So here I am, left with no choice but to publish "their side of the story."

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Kwittie Boy: Hello, my name is Kwittie Boy. I am the fluffy, white cat that my pathetic human slave sometimes refers to as his "stuffed toy." Frankly, it's embarrassing. My human slaves named me as such, thinking that adding a "w" within the word "kitty" was cute. And I don't know why they spell it with "ie" instead of a "y."

Foreman: Hi, my name is Foreman. I am the cat with the coat of shiny, black fur. Either my human slaves are racist or just plain stupid, having named me after that doctor on the now-defunct television show "House" just because I'm black.

KB: So our humans were so proud to have brought us to this faraway place called Tagaytay, which I honestly don't know what's so special about.

F: And so proudly declared that they loved the experience of bringing us along! (Hiss) The instant the guy-slave brought out those so-called "pet carriers," I knew something wasn't right.

KB: Needless to say, we protested but were eventually overpowered. So we ended up like this:

KB: I mean, we were like inmates in some mobile prison.

F: I was voicing my dissent the moment he started the engine, something my dumbass human simplistically referred to as "meowing" in his blog post. Such a moron! I tried different intonations to somehow get my message across their oversized but empty brains -- but to no avail. Eventually I stopped.

KB: We later pulled over to gas up and the guy-slave "checked" on us.

F: He partially opened the carrier and reached inside to pet me. I was contemplating a dash but I was unfamiliar with the place. Seriously, I could have bit off his finger but that would be just gross. But still, can he not read the expression on my face?

F: I mean, I was so stressed to the point that I was hyperventilating earlier, and here's proof:

KB: I've done this before, and I didn't hyperventilate. But I think I suffered from a bit of motion sickness, no thanks to his bad driving. I felt nauseated. Thankfully, he cleaned me up but I never saw what was coming next: he forced me into taking my picture! How dare him! Who on earth would be ready for his closeup right after puking? It was just just inconsiderate and downright stupid!

F: I feel for you, Kwittie Boy. Anyway, I drifted off through the remainder of that very long drive somehow.

KB: I did, too.

F: And when we woke up, we were being carried to this unfamiliar place where there were lots of plants. I saw flowers, too. I don't know, I couldn't see much from inside the carrier.

KB: When they finally let us out, I was in shock, dwarfed by such a huge space. Imagine what the opposite of feeling claustrophobic felt like. It was that feeling.

F: Kwittie Boy was lucky to have made a dash under the bed early. I was still a little woozy and wasn't able to think and act fast as a consequence. So the lady-slave forcibly cupped me. She wouldn't be able to do this back home because I'd paw at her in an instant but this time, I felt weak and simply submitted to her annoying affectation.

F: I slowly regained my senses and only then did the frightening enormity of the place started sinking in.

F: Then I did what I should have done in the first place: hide under the bed where human hands couldn't reach me. Kwittie Boy and I comforted each other in this trying moment.

KB: I said, we'll pull through this; don't worry.

KB: We surveyed the place from under the bed as the humans were unpacking their stuff and ours. Observing them, I soon realized they wanted Foreman and I to share the same toilet, which these morons call a "litter box." I don't know if it was plain laziness on their part but sharing a toilet with Foreman is disgusting.

F: Back home we have separate toilets because Mr Fluffy-pants here is so finicky.

KB: And as if it weren't disgusting enough, they placed our dishes beside the toilet! Don't they ever use their brains? I mean, who eats right next to where they poop?

F: Thankfully they realized their stupidity and re-positioned the dishes elsewhere. Then they went out when it started to get dark outside. I heard they had dinner and went to the spa. How insensitive!

KB: While they were away, Foreman and I secretly went out and rolled in their bed, laughing. I know I don't like Foreman that much but sometimes -- just sometimes -- he's okay.

F: Don't worry; the feeling's mutual.

KB: Anyway, we surveyed the place and went through their stuff.

F: I saw they brought some Starbucks Via and I fixed both of us some coffee and puffed a cigarette.

KB: But then as we were lounging by the window, peering through the darkness, I saw something really revolting.

F: It literally shocked the both of us.

KB: How dare he pet another cat! It was sheer infidelity that, I must admit, hurt me. But I had to put on a strong face. I thought I shall not concede defeat. I shall not give them any satisfaction whatsoever. So Foreman and I had a long talk.

F: We were plotting our next move when the humans suddenly arrived at the door. I was caught off-guard and instead of going for under the bed, I hid behind a curtain. Of course it was only a matter of time before they discovered me there. But when I did make the bed -- I mean, under it -- I never went out, at least while they were still awake. I was still furious over that repulsive act of infidelity earlier, and no amount of Fancy Feast could appease my anger and contempt.

KB: Well, I had to swallow my pride because the Fancy Feast was just too good to resist. It's salmon, my favorite.

F: When morning came, the room was filled with so much light. The brightness was blinding we retreated under the beds again. Then later, we figured out we were leaving again soon. I saw the bed above me move. As I was distracted, the guy-slave grabbed me from behind and tethered me to a different bed.

KB: I was likewise tricked and the lady-slave also grabbed me by surprise and tethered me to the same bed as Foreman was. I tried reaching for the other bed but I couldn't.

KB: All attempts at escaping were futile, so I gave up.

F: And we simply waited for them to incarcerate us once again.

F: But they had other plans, and we didn't see this one coming.

KB: They tried to "walk" us like dogs! Such humiliation!

F: You may not understand it but it's so demeaning for us cats to be treated like dogs! To be treated like a stupid slob who chases its own tail and who always takes orders from humans, who, by the way, are so beneath us -- it was definitely one of my lowest points ever.

KB: And to add insult to injury, they had us photographed! Oh, the horror! What would the distinguished cat community say when they see this? I tried forging an escape but the guy-slave was quick.

F: They also took turns in holding each of us up high like some prized puppies. I felt like bursting into tears but I didn't want to show any emotion. Poker face.

KB: On the long drive back home, I secretly cried myself to sleep inside my carrier.

F: Me too. What a way to ruin our weekend.

KB: It was such a nightmare.

F: I agree. Now they're saying they want to do it more often? Seriously?!

KB: Screw them! There won't be a next time.

F: You bet there won't be. (Hiss)