I suppose it's time I wrote a long post about my cat, most blogs seem to be about cats these days and I can't afford to miss another hot trend, as hot trends drive internet traffic and make bloggers rich, which is after all what blogs are for. I don't know what kind of cat I would own if I had one but let's imagine it's a red tabby with fiery green eyes, whiskers of average length, a tail, and a purr like a '65 Mustang. She likes to jump in my lap when I'm watching telly, she tolerates no barky barky from my rottweiler Tony, sends him away howling with a cuff on the schnozz any time he comes at her all frisky-like, she's around when I want her and disappears when I don't, a catch and release hunter who doesn't spray behind the sofa, in short, she's all that and a bag of cat litter (snap).
My cat is so funny the way she plays with things, like strings. She can play with a string upwards of twenty minutes. No I don't mean she plays the guitar, silly, or the bass fiddle for that matter, I mean she will chase around a piece of string until she catches it and winds herself in it and wrassles with it all crazy like. When she figures out it's dead she walks away, but two seconds later you tug the string and she's forgotten, she's after that thing like it's a real live piece of string.
Make no mistake, having a cat is a big responsibility, financially and emotionally. You have to find someone to look after it while you are watching TV. Its food is super expensive, and you can't just feed it eggs or walnuts. Taking it surfing is right out. So what do you do all day with a cat? It's difficult to predict. But if you are there for your cat emotionally then it will be there for you when you need it most. It's about the best investment you can make.*
Here's a long story about my cat that is so boring and pointless I wouldn't even tell it to my grandma if we were on a long car trip and had run out of things to talk about a hundred miles ago. But in my view, that's what blogs are for. So hold onto your britches and keep on reading, it is after all free, and you may derive a perverse pleasure from my personal inanity. Go ahead and shit on me in the Comments section, if you're one of the haters. I don't mind the humiliation if it will drive some traffic. That is after all what blogs are for. Anyway it was my birthday and I wanted to dress up my cat like the bride of Chucky so first I took her to the kitty parlor to get her hair frayed and her ears frazzled, and she did not like that one bit, she was hissing up a shitstorm and she slashed up the poor pedicurist (who had, foolishly perhaps, just sharpened her claws) something awful, that cost me half a small fortune in medical bills, but fine, it was worth it, we got the look we wanted. So I get her home and all dolled up with the makeup and the fake stitching, she looks almost exactly like the real bride of Chucky and we head out to the party. But what I had forgotten to account for – what? Oh. Well my producer is signaling that we're out of time for tonight, I'll have to pick up that story next week.
Good night and god bless cats, which are the most amazing animals, I mean sometimes I wonder what my cat is thinking, it seems so zen about most stuff and shows none of the neuroses of inbred poodles or the brooding mastodon, etc. etc. [Fade as credits roll]
*Not intended or offered as actual investment advice, standard disclaimers may or may not apply, if you invest in a cat and lose your shirt don't come crying to blog, and so on and so forth.