Monday, May 30, 2011

Willy Nilly

Confession: It really has not been my most healthy weekend ever.

It's terrible. If I wasn't fat before I surely am now. But what a yummy fat it is.

Speaking of cats, I like 'em. I like 'em a lot.
Feline characteristics are a pretty much deeply rooted in their typical stereotype of being dignified, snooty and lazy. They wear all the pants, they could care less for human interaction and yet we continue to coo at the wittle baby kitties and slave away the rest of the cat's existence, trying to not take it personally when they nuzzle up every corner of your body but can't stand your touch once you want to pet them.
Like any species, cats have their oddballs. Such as this little demon of love: I'm talking about the wet ball of fur there :P
This cat. This cat is a fiend. A conglomerate fiend of about 5 different Animal Kingdom branches.
This cat looks like a cat. But he's really a dog (one of those cute dumb dogs). And a bird. And a goat.
And also Spiderman. Not sure what branch that is.
This past weekend, that lovely lady in the picture, demon cat's mommy, and her hubby went on a lake trip with her family in celebration of Memorial day and so I apartment/cat-sat for them. It was only a couple days but I can safely say that that "cat" should never be left alone for more than 24 hours at a time, if that even.
Usually, when you enter the house after a period of it being empty, the cat doesn't appear for a minute or two. Hiding out till suddenly he just pops up and you have no idea where he came from. Which would be exceedingly creepy if he didn't have a look in his eyes that suggested he was gazing at purple mushrooms sporting orange afros and singing christmas carols (speaking of 'shrooms' that "cat" is seriously, seriously on drugs). But no, this particular weekend after being left alone to whatever his little demon heart desires, I open the door and he bolts like there's no tomorrow and he has to run around the world before it ends. I didn't even realize he'd escaped till he spent a crazed second flailing around my legs as if the sun had actually blinded him. He teetered off at a speed unsafe for his condition (exemplified by his near run-in with the back of the stairs) and I chased him to the parking lot.
I got him back in the apartment and he didn't leave my shoulder for the next 10 minutes. Not draped over my shoulder like those cute baby gorilla's in Tarzan. Like a parrot. Standing on my shoulder. Turning around, shoving his stinky little booty in my face, whipping my eyes with his tail. He meowed. He chirped. He nuzzled and he clawed. He jumped, ran, bounded, flipped and juggled invisible playthings in thin air.
Boyfriend and I came back the next day, wary of his attempts to escape. He was just as hyperactive and cuddly as before. When we tried to leave he was right at our feet, blocking the door from even opening. We tried to distract him with a playtoy by tossing it into the kitchen, but once the doorknob made the slightest click his ears perked up and he was back with his nose in the crack. So boyfriend went back to the kitchen, jiggling the toy so the "cat" came back, got tangled in and suddenly we were in a 007 movie and he had just set a bomb and the word was, "GO! GO! GO!!"
I ripped open the door, he tumbled past me and I snapped it shut just as demon "cat"s baffled face bounded within 2 feet of the closing door.
That cat eats anything.
He chases and chews on his own tail.
He literally plays with nothing. Batting at it. Biting, scratching and practically having a seizure.
He climbs up walls, furniture and door screens.
He makes sounds unbeknownst to a cat.
He's not a cat, and I love him :)

1 comment:

  1. this is genius... and a PERFECT description of Willie!! :) i love it!!