Every morning, as I gather up my stuff and get ready to head to work, my cats like to play with my shoelaces and the cord on my iPhone earbuds.
So, I dangle my shoes and the cord so they can bat them around.
They really love it.
“I gotta go to work,” I tell the cats, putting on my shoes and my headphones.
They look up at me with sad kitty eyes.
“I’ve got time saved up,” I decide, and I call in sick.
Just as I’m hanging up, I reach for the headphones and…
The cats have vanished.
Tag: cats
Get To Sleep
A friend of mine said he’s having trouble going to sleep.
His cats jump on the bed and pounce on his feet under the covers.
I used to have that kind of problem, too.
Except that my cat would jump on the bed and poke my nose.
I’d pet him for a while, and then go back to sleep.
Sometimes, he’d poke me again.
But usually he’d go to sleep, too.
I never felt annoyed that he did this, because I knew there’d come a time when he’d be gone.
Now, I sleep. Uninterrupted.
And dream of when I couldn’t.
The Cans
We started with four cats, and they’d eat whatever canned food we put out.
When there was just one of those four left, he had the can all to himself.
But then we found a kitten… and got another kitten, and they’d all eat their canned supper together.
When the last of the original four cats died, the two grown kittens got picky about canned food.
I’ve tried to chart what they like… sliced… flaked… chunks… chicken… liver… beef… fish…
Sometimes, they ate it. Sometimes, they stuck to dry food.
I leave it out on the patio for the strays.
I don’t have a cat!
“I don’t have a cat!” I said to the cat on my lawn.
“I don’t have a cat!” I said to the cat on my porch.
“I don’t have a cat!” I said to the cat on my chair.
“I don’t have a cat!” I said to the cat on my kitchen floor.
“I don’t have a cat!” I said to the cat on my bed.
“I don’t have a cat!” I said to the cat on my lap.
The cat didn’t say anything back.
Except for a gentle, dismissive purr.
Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
A Series Of Dogs
George Carlin once said that life is a series of dogs.
The dogs you owned, one after another.
For me, life has been a series of cats.
One, two… One time, four of them at once. Now just two.
They were all unique. Different. Special.
How they went, sudden or slow, each its own unique sadness.
Laying in bed, almost asleep, I hear the familiar sound of him leaping to the bed, walking along the blanket, laying down against my side.
Nothing. He is gone. And my mind thinks I still need him there.
Haunting myself for comfort’s sake.
The Alarm
What? Huh?
I wake up to a cat leaping up to the bed, walking along the blanket, and curling up on top of my butt.
I turn to look at the alarm clock.
It’s 5:29. The alarm will go off at 5:30.
I turn to look at the cat.
“That butt’s going away soon,” I say.
Eyes closed, the cat flicks an ear.
The alarm goes off.
The cat, eyes still closed, takes a firm grip with his claws.
I reach for the clock and hit the snooze bar.
We’ll deal with it later.
And I go back to sleep.
Whelm
I see the word overwhelm all the time.
And I see the word underwhelm all the time.
But I never see the word whelm.
Is there even such a word? If there is, is it just a word that exists to stick prefixes and suffixes on?
If I ever have a kid, boy or girl, I’m going to name them that. Because with all the goddamned Jennifers and Chrises and Williams, they’ll stand out from the rest.
Of course, I can’t have kids.
And there’s no fucking way I’ll name a cat Whelm. That’s a stupid name for a cat!
Only So Much
There’s only so much red laser pointer games or ribbon on a stick teasing you can do with your cat.
Sometimes, when I’m really bored, I’ll slip my cell phone under a sleeping cat and then call it with another phone.
Most cats jump up startled, but we had this one cat who would just twitch his ear once and ignore the thing.
It didn’t matter what ringtone was set up, or if I’d set it on vibrate mode. He’d just twitch his ear and ignore it.
We figured he was smart enough to realize the call wasn’t for him.
The Only Truly Innocent
Once a year, I get called up for jury duty, and I always get tossed because the defense and state agree I’m a whack-job who thinks for himself.
The judge calls it “Talk And Walk.”
And, boy, can I talk.
I used to celebrate my freedom by heading to Cabo’s bar and grill for a margarita and a fish taco, but Cabo’s closed down last year.
And sitting six hours on a hard bench really hurt my back.
I limp to the park, put down a pile of treats, and watch the feral cats eat.
The only truly innocent Downtown.
Pampered
I had two cats.
She had two cats.
When we got married, that made four.
They all lived happy lives.
One died.
Then another.
And so did a third.
Their ashes are in nice velvet bags on the shelf.
When the fourth finally died, he came back in a nice box, with his name stamped on a shiny metal plate.
My wife asked the pet cemetery staff if we could get the others their own boxes and names stamped on shiny metal plates.
You know. Upgrades.
Even after they’re dead, we still pamper and spend money on these little guys.