It’s New Year’s Day and if you’re lucky you are out on your bike or you are lying in bed thinking about getting on your bike or you are talking to your cats, which is what my mom is doing right now.
She is a cat lady which makes sense because she is a psychiatrist and no one is whackier than an old cat lady head shrinker. She talks to her cats all the time but it’s a one-way conversation as they never talk back.
Her husband is a whacky cat talker, too. That makes sense because they live together and if you are married to a cat lady you had better learn to be a cat man I suppose. It is weird to see a grown man talking to cats.
My dad’s wife is a cat lady, too. They have cats everywhere and my dad is such an old cat man that when we talk on the phone he tells me about his cats. I don’t give two half fucks about his cats but I listen patiently.
I hate all their cats but it’s not personal. I hate them because I am allergic which the cats all know and which the cat owners in my family really know. “Are you okay?” they fake ask as I swell up and turn red and my eyes bleed tears and I sneeze uncontrollably and I quit breathing mostly.
“I’m so sorry,” they say, adding in the same breath, “Ooh, Buttons! You’re so cute!” as Buttons rubs against my leg and sets off another round of hell. Buttons is always like, “Fuck you, cat hater, take that.”
When people are sitting around and a cat walks in and of course in a house full of cats they’re always walking in because they have nothing else to do, the cat people immediately remark on it. “Oh, look, Tounces likes sitting by the fire.” All conversation is now hijacked by Tounces, who shows what he thinks about you and your stupid family of non-cats by sticking out his left leg and licking his nasty cat ass.
I wonder why we even sit together any more. No one can get any kind of conversation started without it becoming about the cats, which by the way suits the cats just fine. It’s like having a house full of shitting babies who never grow up. No one ever says, “Spot got into grad school at Harvard and is researching fluid dynamics.”
For the rest of your life it’s going to be, “Spot likes the new seafood flavor of Kibbles,” and “Spot and Tounces simply can’t get along.” Is it just me or doesn’t everyone know that cats don’t get along? Is there someone out there who really thinks cats are pack animals? Have cat people heard the phrase “herding cats”?
But as much as I’d like to discuss the refugee crisis or Poland’s evisceration of its Supreme Court or the war in Syria, it ain’t gonna happen, ever. And since I can’t ride my bike I may as well sit back and marvel at the cat’s ass.
Now pardon me while I sneeze.
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