We don’t have a lot of guest writers here on themightymjd.com, but today, we’ve got a special treat. Steve Nash’s cat wrote in to get some things off his chest. He had some things to share…

Hey guys. My name is Ikztiwon, but you can call me Iky for short. Everyone else does. See, my name is Nowitzki spelled backwards. I think Steve really misses Dirk. I feel bad for Steve sometimes, except when he makes me put on a little custom-made Nowitzki jersey, and run around the yard with him doing the pick-and-roll. If I run really hard at the basket, Steve gives me a treat. Like I said, I think Steve really misses Dirk.

But I don’t. Dirk’s a really nice guy and everything, but I got tired of him picking me up and telling me to meow in German. Cats in Germany meow the same way, Dirk. And I think you know that, but you also think that telling me to meow in German is really funny. I wish Steve would stop laughing at it so much. I think he’s just being nice. That really was only funny the first time, Dirk. I also wish you would stop eating out of my bowl when you come over.

But Steve likes you, so I don’t really mind too much. Steve’s a really good owner. He’s a real nice guy. But there are some things I’d like to talk to him about.

Steve, when you’re giving me a treat, you can just hand it to me. Set it in front of me. Put it in my mouth. Either of those would be fine. Really, you don’t have to run in the opposite direction and whip it at me from behind your back. They’re really delicious and everything, and I appreciate it, but sometimes, I get tired of Whiskas Temptations Cat Treats pegging me in the face. I can’t catch, Steve. I have paws. I’m not Boris Diaw, so please stop treating me like Boris Diaw.

And yes, we both know that you can fool me everytime when you no-look pass me the ball of yarn. I don’t know why you keep doing it. We cats are easily-fooled. It’s not that impressive. Everytime you look at the window and throw me the ball, it surprises me, and I flinch, and I look like a big pussy. Can you stop this? I’ll still go along with it and act like you’re a really cool guy when you bring a lady home, but when it’s just us, really, let me play with my own yarn.

Also, Steve, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I could really use a haircut. Come on. Look at me. I know you don’t really like to groom yourself, but I’m a cat. I need a little maintenance. Please don’t push your anti-grooming views on me. There’s a nest of worker bees living in my fur, because it hasn’t been trimmed since that one time Mark Cuban got drunk shaved “MFFL” into my fur. I’m serious here. A trip to the groomer is long overdue. If you want to let your own hair go, that’s fine. But I need some help here. I can live with you naming me after a German power forward, but I can’t live with hair that prevents me from actually seeing.

And just one last thing, can you stop licking your hands before you pet me? I see you do this a lot on TV, too. It’s kind of gross, Steve. I already have problems with my fur, as we’ve already discussed. I don’t need it to be saturated with your spit, too. Just let me lick myself, please.

That’s all. Have a good day everyone.