Monday, October 8, 2012

Do Not Ask For Whom the Cat Yaks

I know how a cat feels tonight. Or maybe I don't. Maybe the cat is slightly depressed because every time he runs in the house, the homeowner grabs him under his soft, orange-striped belly and lugs him out the back door.

Perhaps what I mean is: Tonight, I know how a cat feels.

That does not mean I have a sudden urge to be at the other end of the house, RIGHT NOW, and I claw the carpet in a shower of sparks and propel myself over there forthwith, barely touching the floor, like I've been shot out of a cannon.

That does not mean that I revel in bathing myself in front of curious onlookers with the only cleansing agent being my rough pink tongue, all the while flaunting my superior flexibility and complete lack of embarrassment at burying my head deep in my anal region.

That does not mean that I feel comfortable draping myself over various natural and man-made objects, like all bones have been removed from my body, rendering me as limp as a Salvador Dali timepiece upon a bleak landscape, snoozing like somebody switched the catnip for Ambien.

It DOES mean that I know how it feels to make a yakking, hacking, choking sound when a Roasted Garlic Triscuit becomes wedged under my uvula.

Do not ask for whom the cat yaks, my friends. He yaks for ME. To teach me how a cat feels. Because I'm all empathetic like that. It's true. People sometimes refer to me as Mrs. Empathy.

When they're not referring to me as That Infernal Cat-Yakking Val.

6 comments:

  1. Sorry about the yakking, but I do love the Dali reference.

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  2. And people--only the ones who know me well, or have met me once, or have heard rumors (all untrue) about me--say I'm more the "female dog" type.

    I don't know what they mean by that, but they say it often.

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  3. let the boys clean up your fur, err cracker balls. Scary feeling choking.

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  4. Stephen,
    Every time I see my boneless cats draped across the porch furniture, that Dali painting persists in my memory.

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    Sioux,
    Well, some folks are female cat people (queens), and others like yourself are female dog people (edited for perceived profanity).

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    Linda,
    The most common reaction from my boys is, "Yuck!" or "THAT'S attractive!" or "Will you just STOP IT?" Funny how I don't see them running to save me with a Heimlich rescue.

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  5. I find the older I get the more often I choke on things, even water! It causes He Who to inform me that I am supposed to drink it, not inhale it. I can usually cough up the offending water, problem is, thcoughing makes water at bothe ends of my body .....

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  6. Kathy,
    Pardon me if I put that in the TMI file. I don't want you to slip off the mental pedestal where I've placed you. I'll grab a roll of Bounty, the quicker picker upper, to cushion your seat. And absorb any leakage.

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