In my experience, the more time stacked on a relationship, the lighter the expectation. Fifteen years ago, spending time with my future husband was an endeavor, a planned scheme to win over and anchor his commitment. In pursuit of his devotion, each date and occasion had to create a moment that surpassed the one before. A date to a movie progressed to a picnic by the river that eventually advanced to a spontaneous, overnight trip to Alabama for a KISS concert, and before I knew it, I had surprised him with a trip to London just so he can experience his favorite musical, The Phantom of the Opera, on its home soil. Nowadays, though, my wallet and I are grateful that an acceptable level or relationship maintenance is an evening on the sofa, sharing a movie and a bowl of pomegranate seeds while chaperoned by a balding cat that lounges between us on a towel matted in clumps of its own long, black fur.
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You can find some weird shit on the internet. And you don’t even have to look very hard for it.
It makes me wonder if we shouldn’t just shut down the whole thing.
Exhibit A:
Exhibit B:
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I once read an article that shared eight things I should never do to my cat. While it was a pleasant reminder of general cat care, we live in an age where companies have to label hair dryers with warnings so people won’t fry themselves with it in a running shower. Because common sense doesn’t seem to equate common practice, I feet it’s necessary to share eight more (specific) things that people should never do to their cats.
I wrote this back in 2014 but stuffed it in my drafts file after relocating to a new platform. Not sure why. But here it is.
There’s not enough Xanax in America to tolerate the cats tracking litter through your house. Thankfully, frustration is the wicked step-mother of invention. Since I can’t teach the Heathens to wash their paws after using the bathroom (I’ve tried), I have designed a device that can eliminate litter tracking.
Allow me to introduce The Heathen Paw Cleaner 3000 (patent pending).
SMALL PRINT: This device does not prevent litter slinging or sanitize the back paws. These options are being saved for the more expensive 2.0 version.
The litter box, sponge, and cloth all rest on scales attached to a CPU. The mandatory cage hangs from a computerized rig bolted to the ceiling and connected to the CPU.
Since welcoming Blind Murphy into our home over a decade ago (may he rest in peace), I quickly learned that my heart belonged to handicats. Whether they are gimpy, blind, disfigured, deaf, or a little on the “special” side, handicats are loyal and can give just as much love (if not more) as able-bodied cats. This is why I have reluctantly opened our home to a few others over the years:
- Zoe, an Abyssinian born deaf and with a mild case of cerebellar hypoplasia
- Elvis, a black longhair that showed up at our back door with FIV
- Predator Face, born with a gross hare lip and an extraordinarily expensive case of something called polyploid rhinitis
And then there’s Damien, our maltese. He suffers from a condition in which many can relate: feline resting bitch face.
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I should be vacuuming, but when you’re hit with inspiration, the best way to hit back is to give into it.
I like to think of this as a brief clip of something more feature length because, let’s face it, when you own cats, there are a lot of horror stories to tell.
Here is Predator Face’s movie debut:
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Have you ever wondered what your pets are up to while you are away? Obviously some of you have or else there wouldn’t be such a market for pet cameras in a variety of models from basic surveillance to interactive treat shooter, or how about the millions some of y’all have given to animated movie studios to watch unsupervised domesticated animals with cliche personalities speaking cliche dialog.
Admit it, while we are away, we enjoy imagining our pets having adventures or living the high life based on the personality we assign them. Once upon a time, I had convinced myself that Mr. Tiddles (may he rest in peace) was dealing drugs from our apartment behind my back. Even my husband used to claim that his favorite cat, Elvis, fought crime while we desk jockeyed under fluorescent lighting in our corporate cubicles (but now Elvis is old and his crime fighting unitard has been retired to the attic).
Predator Face is still healing. It appears that the bloody snots have cleared up. He snorts when he breaths, but we’re hoping the prednisoline will get rid of the inflammation in his nasal cavity.
Now, if you’ll excuse us, it’s time for a little shut eye.
As I’ve mentioned before, Predator Face has a habit of sneezing phlegm onto our walls and floor since the day of his adoption. In my opinion, this has made housekeeping more laborious than necessary.
As I’ve also mentioned before, Predator Face recently lost the ability to breath through his nose, making him sound like a snotty, mouth-breathing toddler with the flu. Not, stertorous. More slurpy, like breathing through a mouthful of gelatin.
Predator Face is sleeping at by my side while I work. A moment ago, I looked down to see him like this:
In case you are considering putting food out for strays, you may want to know the potential consequences.
I’ve been told by friends that this thing is my new pet now and that “when the mystic possum choose you you accept.”
Oh bother.
Disclaimer: All of my heathens are in carriers when they are being transported. The pictures you see below were taken while we waiting in car that was parked in the lot, waiting for the vet office to open. Save your potential outrage for something important like poverty, racism, or greed.
Predator Face has had a bit of a breathing problem for the past three or four weeks. He gets a severe case of the snorts when he tries breathing through his nose.
Today, he will be put under so that the doctor can take a look inside.
I know Predator Face is nervous, so to make him feel better, I let him drive.
This is him pulling into the parking spot…
He then forgot which peddle was the brake and which was the accelerator, so we ended up hitting the wall pretty hard. I banged my head against the dashboard. He got thrown into the back seat…
But he’s okay. Glad nobody got hurt.
So if you’re in the Memphis area and see a hare lipped cat behind the wheel, get off the sidewalk!
Is there a reputable manufacturer of cat bras?
My cat, Damien, has large boobs. They’re so big, he looks like a dairy cow (but he gets pretty irritated when you try milking him…I won’t be making that mistake again).
Poe the Stray remains homeless. Nobody has responded to the voicemail at the number assigned to his chip.
Until I can find a home for this cat, Predator Face is keeping him entertained.
Though he doesn’t look amused.
Do you know if pet adoption organizations are having a harder time adopting out during this Covid stuff?
A good friend recently shared knowledge of an app called Reface. So what does Reface do? Well, here I am as Claudia Schiffer.
I’ve wasted many hours slapping my face on celebrities when I should be working on the novelization of The Reluctant Cat Owner’s Journal like I’m supposed to, but I lack both discipline and shame.
