Misfit Christmas was last night, an evening which shall be described in as much detail as the pre-party waivers will allow, right after I take several naps and drink a bathtub full of water.
Seems I have a hangover, a condition requiring that I remain in a prone position on the couch, pressing clumps of numbers on the remote in the hopes of landing on something entertaining on the television, and watching the cats.
You’ve met the cats, yes?
There’s Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys), a small-pawed and impertinent cat with a penchant for taking late-night phone calls in the bathroom (with the water running, the little bugger). She’s been known to take my car when I’m asleep, although she always returns it with a full tank.
Money as scarce as it is these days, I’ve overlooked this behavior. Anyway, what can I do but overlook it? The last time I called the police to report that my cat had taken my car without my permission, the laughter on the other end of the phone stayed with me for days.
Then there’s Dolly Gee Squeakers (formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers). Dolly is as beautiful as she is dumb, drags bits of string about the house whilst mewing piteously between clenched teeth, and will someday make a lovely muff.
And all this got me thinking. Cats aren’t just pets, aren’t just fuzzy little beings in their own right.
They’re also fully utilitarian.
For example, they’re useful purely for their heating properties. Temperatures well below zero? Don’t have enough blankets? Have you considered covering yourself with kitties?
Cats are also quite useful as alarm clocks. Confused and concerned that I have slept past my usual time of 5:50, both cats felt that it was their duty today to remind me, in three-minute increments, that I am not up, that I should get up, that I still am not up, that they believe I should get up.
Cats are also useful, in these difficult times, as food. Of course you’re going to want to use a sour cream-style sauce, of course, to cut the wild taste.
I recommend a Pale Ale with Kitty Stroganoff.
I keed! I keed!
I would pair it with wine; and oddly enough, there is no wine that doesn’t complement cat…
Ahh, don't let me fool you. The kitties are safe with me, today and every day, these musings merely my brain trying to locate firing synapses by exploring the whole "but-what-are-they-for" aspects of their fuzzy, freeloading ways.
Like I said: I'm a bit hung over.
I'll be on the couch today if you need me.
Between A Million And A Billion
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28 comments:
Morning Pearl. I'd respond with something witty but I seem to have a wee jackhammer going off in the back of my skull. And I suspect you had far more fun acquiring your thumper than I...me...myself...shite. Whatever. Feel well soon. Enjoy the couch.
Ah, the beloved hangover.. last time I had one it took me 3 days, yes 72 hours to even feel somewhat normal. I learned a horrible lesson. Enjoy that comfy couch today and tell the cats to go lie down someplace..now..
Our cat, Chocolate, is an integral member of staff. Not only is she an excellent pest control officer, she doubles up as chief psychotherapist.
7:00 AM??? SEVEN. O'CLOCK. AM??? On a Sunday? After a hard night of partying? This is the time that it shows that you posted this little ditty. Rhymes with kitty. Which supports the wine (whine) sauce accompaniment.
I'll bet that now that you are on the couch rather than in bed, they are fine with that, snuggled right there in your face purring.
(typed in a whisper) Here, Pearl, have a coffee... I'll wait. I thought I was the only one who sometimes threatened to eat the cats as they are being annoying to a degree only a fellow cat owner could know. Two days ago I found myself dumbfounded when my doorbell rang and the neighbors cat was the only one sitting at the front door with the look on his face of - "Can I borrow the motorcycle? I've got to get out of town for a few days, there was a bird and a squirrel, well it's a long story... can I borrow the Bike?" To which I could only reply - I can't believe you rang my doorbell, go away because you look delicious.
Damn the cats all to hell! Better yet... send them out in your car to get you some coffee!
Add Lila in and you'll have a pair of matching muffs.... one day. Equally as beautiful and equally as vacuous. Although devilish too. Is Dolly Gee Squeakers devilish?
Hope the hangover fades rapidly after downing that tub of H20.
I hope you drank your fair share of frosty beverages.
Did you raid Liza Bean Bitey's drinks cabinet?
If so, then I'm not surprised at your present condition. Strawberry Daquiris leave the WORST sort of hangover, and the only treatment is a pint of paracetamol and custard the next moring.
Hangovers are best treated with cold pizza (right out of the fridge unless you were too wasted to put it in there) and Alka-Seltzer (scientific fact). Cats are best treated with disdain. It's only fair, that is the way they treat us.
hugs
I did not know you were a "cat person." Now that I do, I like you even better!
I'd like to hear more on this "misfit christmas" affair...
Mine was a Sleep Aid.
I don't know what it was but I would lie down, wide awake.
He would lie on my stomach or beside me.
5 seconds later, we would both be sound asleep for hours.
Very handy little furry things, Cats ...
I don't eat meat, therefore, I don't eat Cat.
If Liza Bean continually returns the car with a full tank - then she is welcome to borrow mine anytime.
I love the very idea of Misfit Christmas. Long may it wave.
I do tolerate the cats pre warming my spot on the bed at night.
You definitely need a sour cream sauce to cut the wild taste; unless they are fried and dipped int catsup.
Ah ha the spirit at Christmas has arrived in you. Here's hopping a cab brought you home to your cat pad and all is peaceful now.
We're in the same boat, you and I. After having completed a grueling technology management course for work I decided to have a shot of whisky, which quickly grew into four. I awoke this morning to the dulcet tones of our cat sitting on my chest begging for her weekly soft food breakfast as I struggled to bury my head under the pillows to tame a wicked headache. Blech.
Cats are also very well equipped to carry out acupuncture or at least puncture! Perhaps they could relieve your hangover.
Sorry about the hangover. I hope it has abated.
My cats are more like roommates that expect me to do everything for them. I entirely agree with the heating capabilities.
1. There's no snooze button on a cat alarm.
2. There are no stray cats in our town. But the meat at the Chinese Restaurant is really stringy and gamey. Thomas stays very close to home and stays out only a very short time...when he dares to leave. Even though he wears a coat that would keep an anorexic model warm.
Good point! My Olive is the best at being an alarm clock too. I haven't had to use my real one for about a year now. I keep it set for 15 minutes after she wakes me up, just in case. But I never have to use it anymore. Handy.
P.S. I just finished my Christmas cards. Thanks for the inspiration yesterday.
I don't have a cat, but my feet are cold, and my dogs are hunting. Can you ship one to me (alive) for a day or two?
Two cat and three dogs compete (vigorously) for the bestest spot in the house ... my stomach and chest when I have a lay down on the sofa!
Last night Zak (kitty), a rare visitor these days, lay on my chest with his head resting on Clover's (lab X) backside as she lay across my stomach and legs.
I know just how warm it can get under a 'blanket' of animals!
Blossom (kitty)sat on the arm of the sofa staring daggers at both of them.
Sox (collie X) maintained a dignified distance and merely snorted her disapproval at short intervals.
Sym (Blue Merle, of whom I am the 'daddy'), who normally reserves my stomach and chest for a good 'cwtch', had a nose so far out of joint that it wasn't even in the same room!
They are good for getting you up quickly. There is no sound like that of the cat wretching on your bed to make a body fly up faster from a sound sleep. Really, I think you have underestimated their usefulness.
There is nothing quite like a kitty-cat blanket. I don't condone skinning them or anything, but you know, drape a few live ones on your belly and voila! Instant heating. And so soft. Well except the sharp pointy bits that sometimes come out when they stretch and touch your chin with their daggers and interfere with your mellow and make you exclaim things like "Good fucking Jesus, cat, what the hell?"
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