Teaching My Cat Russian

I should be working. Instead, I'm trying to teach my cat Russian. I want him to bring me his brush.

"Fremont, где— щетка?"

He should fetch his brush and say, "Вот, пожалуйста, щетка."

Or he could lead me to his brush and say, "Она здесь."

Of course, being polite, I would say, "Спасебо!" and he would reply, "Пожалуйста."

He's a Red tabby; he should know Russian, dammit. I need someone to practice Russian with. But he just lies there and looks at me like I'm nuts or something.

What Cats Don't Tell Us

The cats woke me up at 5:00 am Sunday morning, with a fight that started down the hall and quickly moved under my bed. Most of the time Fremont is rather laid back, but every once in a while he has to do these things. Sylvia never learned to defend herself, as Mickey always used to come between her and Fremont, and he actually stopped many fights. But no more... Anyway, when attacked, Sylvia finds something to hide under, and screams bloody murder. A fine way to wake up! So I had to get up, chase them out from under the bed, and corral Fremont long enough for Sylvia to escape.

When I went back to sleep, I had a dream. Someone told me that the reason Fremont attacked Sylvia was because he didn't like the way she wrote her papers. So I got on the computer and found her papers. Sure enough, there were problems with the way she wrote them! I fixed them, so Fremont wouldn't need to fight with her any more.

There are two things here that concern me.

First, I'm obviously working way too much.

Second..... Whatever it is that cats think about, but will never share with us...... I had it, right in front of me! On my computer! And I have no idea what it said!