I've contributed to perhaps the best humor compilation I've ever read. Available now on Amazon!

My second chapbook, "The Second Book of Pearl: The Cats" is now available as either a paper chapbook or as a downloadable item. See below for the Pay Pal link or click on its cover just to the right of the newest blog post to download to your Kindle, iPad, or Nook. Just $3.99 for inspired tales of gin, gambling addiction and inter-feline betrayal.

My first chapbook, I Was Raised to be A Lert is in its third printing and is available both via the PayPal link below and on smashwords! Order one? Download one? It's all for you, baby!

Saturday, February 4, 2012

When A Cat Leaves You A Present, Decline

As I expected it would, yesterday’s post about Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) caught not only her eye but the eye of our little self-grooming hot-water bottle of a cat, Dolly Gee Squeakers (formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers).

Dolly Gee, aka, Here Kitty Kitty, aka Holy Crap Grab the Door Here Comes the Cat! came to us via the Humane Society. She is what appears to be a long-haired Siamese of some sort, a beautiful animal with stunningly crossed eyes.

“We think she’s about a year old,” said the woman at the Humane Society. “Of course, her eyes are a bit crossed, and she can’t seem to jump beyond, well, beyond standing on all four feet. And she does appear to have some sort of periodontal disease…” The woman paused. “She was dropped off in our night deposit box just two days ago, you know.”

As an aside, did you know you could do that? Drop an animal off via a night deposit box?

And four teeth? Well, what’s a little gingivitis amongst us beauties, eh? Perhaps she’ll grow some new ones. What do I know?

At any rate, she was just too beautiful, we thought, too friendly, too perfectly suited, size-wise. She’ll be a lovely companion to Ms. Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys).

And that was our theory.

In reality the two detected deep flaws in each other immediately. Words were exchanged, claws exposed. Dolly lobbed the first insult, derisively labeling Liza Bean an “indoor feeeee-line”. Liza Bean retorted by describing Dolly in such detail and with such vehemence that all I can recall are the words “polyester-pantsuited alley roamer”.

Liza Bean responded to the new arrival by perching herself atop Willie’s head for the next six weeks.

Dolly Gee responded by eating enough to triple her size in half that time.

How she managed to do that with four teeth, I have no idea.

And now, of course, Dolly Gee has seen yesterday’s post, knows that Liza Bean and I went out for a couple of drinks.

Look. I’d have taken her, but if you think Liza Bean can’t hold her liquor, you should see Dolly. Dolly’s got the morals of, well, a cat; and after a couple beers she’s up on tables, dancing suggestively, eventually disappearing with some Tom only to re-appear in the morning, looking sheepish and then drinking all the Fresca in the house as she nurses her hangover.

It’s embarrassing.

Liza Bean is furious with me.

“Running out of material?” she purred viciously. “Needing to write about lunch with friends now, are you?” She narrowed her bright green eyes at me. “Do you know what I deal with, every day, while you’re out, doing God knows what…”

“I hardly think that going to work constitutes God knows –“

Liza Bean was not to be dissuaded. “It’s horrible. Horrible. She sits there in those Daisy Duke shorts, humming entire Disney soundtracks – do you know she uses your eyeliner? Well she does. I have other places to go, you know. I don’t have to stay here.”

She lit a Virginia Slims – in the house! – and exhaled toward the window.

I promised her I would take care of it, that I’d find a discreet way to talk to Dolly Gee Squeakers (of the Humane Society Squeakers) about the sanctity of a peaceful home life.

“Well see that you do,” Liza Bean demurred.

There was a brief pause.

“Frankly,” she said – and is that contriteness I hear in her voice? – “I didn’t think this conversation would go as well as it has. Hmm.” She paused, seemed to visibly run several thoughts through her head before dismissing them all.

She shrugged, took a drag off her cigarette. “You might want to check the inside of your shoes before you go running out the door tonight.” She blew a smoke ring toward the window.

I cocked my head at her in anticipation.

She shrugged again, stubbing her cigarette out. “I left a little something in one of them for you.”

“Not the new ones!”

She closed her eyes, dismissing me. “The same.”

And Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) fell asleep.


mybabyjohn/Delores said...

Dump your shoe out out in her dinner dish. Should make for an interesting conversation.

Joanne said...

Do you need a new lunch bunch?

tony said...

suddenly.worms+ fleas seem the least of it.......

Rita said...

I'm speechless! ROFL!! :):)

jenny_o said...

I thought ALL cats were of the Holy Crap Grab the Door Here Comes the Cat! variety. Particularly when they are really, REALLY not supposed to go outside.

"...polyster-pantsuited alley roamer"
- hehe

Have a good weekend, Pearl!

Eva Gallant said...

Poor Dolly! I have the same problem when I drink!

Eva Gallant said...

Poor Dolly! I have the same problem when I drink!

Jeanie said...

Cats can be so,so... well, catty.

fishducky said...

Please tell Ms. Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) that I, too, am a "polyester-pantsuited alley roamer" & I consider her comment to be a personal insult! AND I'm pretty sure I saw her behind Suzi's bar last weekend!!

aamedor said...

How entertaining!

JohnD said...

Hmmmm! Cats ehhh!

You know, cat's will always be cats!

Cal's Canadian Cave of Coolness said...

One day you must post a picture of your girls.

Pat said...

I remember it well:)

Lisa Golden said...

Those girls are a handful. Time to lock the closet. (One of mine is locked AND duct taped.)

jabblog said...

Hell hath no fury like a cat scorned - well, actually, hell hath no fury like a cat . . .

The Elephant's Child said...

Some years back we had a mouse in the house. My smaller portion made disparaging comments about the cats. The next morning as he was getting dressed to go to work .... a mouse head rolled out of his shoe. Never, ever disrespect a cat.

River said...

I've decided that when I get a cat it will be from the animal shelter. I'm hoping to get one with as much personality as Liza Bean or Dolly Gee.

Flea said...

Liza Bean won't feel so smug when you demonstrate the miraculous cleaning power of vinegar on shoes.

Crystal Pistol said...

You are very entertaining, Pearl. I always smile when I read you. :) See?

Daisy said...

cats with personality! :-)
thanks for the morning smile, tho I have to admit I'm glad that Ms Lisa and Ms Dolly live with you rather than with me!

IndigoWrath said...

Hey Pearl, I find the night-deposit box to unsurprising. My good friend the arch-genius (whose name has changed recently) took to dropping ferrets through my letter box if they were being too bitey on the way back from the pub. On one occasion he managed to get a small alligator through it. I wasn't sure what to do with that, but at least it solved the ferret problem. Indigo x

Dee said...

As an avowed lover of felines and a companion to Ellie (brindle), Maggie (long-haired calico), and Matthew (road runner tiger) I loved this posting! Thank you from all cat lovers everywhere!


Susan in the Boonies said...

She carries grudges.

I really hate to say this, Pearl, but you can.not. trust her.


I said it out loud.

Please: do not let her read this.

Or I'm a goner.

Susan Flett Swiderski said...

Life's nevrf boring when you have cats, is it? Fun post.