Because cats really are dicks.
So my big, white, fluffy, stupid cat is crazy about water. I’d say to a fault. Most other cats wouldn’t drown. This one would because he’d try to…
Not a second after I’ve turned my shower water off, this guy barges in and interrupts towel time.
Uhhhh, wasn’t done here. But sure, lick the wet shower floor.
Some pictures from a little photo sesh I caught Browning doing with I left the room.
I finally got around to buying the most recent issues of Cosmo and InStyle, and what do my cats do? This:
He laid on them all weekend. And tried to sabotage my hair whenever I would get close.
So you may have noticed that my posts have been….well, I was going to say ‘infrequent lately’ but let’s be real, I haven’t posted a goddamn thing in awhile. Fortunately, my lovely blogging mate Catherine has managed the upkeep of things around the site and has kept it from going to complete shit. Hooray Catherine! May your cats reward you by not destroying any of your possessions today! (Although it’s probably too late in the day for that….)
So you may be asking where I’ve been or what I’ve been doing. Or maybe you think that my cats just started behaving themselves and stopped trying to murder me, thus not providing me with any material. To which I say HA–you clearly aren’t a cat owner. Well, I could tell you how I’ve started a new job that has kept me pretty busy, or how I’ve been going through some rather adult shit in the past few months, but this blog isn’t about my problems. If I wanted to put my personal life and issues on display, I would start a blog specifically designed for narcissistic and self-indulgent whining or just post it in my facebook status like everyone else does. So, instead of getting into all that, let’s just celebrate the fact that I’m back! Yay!
I would like to use this post to introduce you to a friend’s cat. Meet Berkeley:
A friend of mine lost his dog about three months ago and wanted a new pet for companionship. Using my amazing skills of persuasion (and selfishly knowing I could get a lot of blog-mileage out of the situation), I convinced him that he should get a cat (and clearly, he doesn’t read the blog). So I went with him to the shelter and Berke was the first cat he spotted. We took him out of his crate, and he was honest-to-god the sweetest cat I’d ever met in my life. Of course, I should’ve realized at the time where we were and that obviously the sweetness was a ploy to dupe gullible humans into upgrading his lifestyle by adopting him. But at the time, I think all I said was, “Oh my god, he’s purring and he’s sleeping in my lap, and OH MY GOD now he’s making biscuits, and he’s purring so loud and he’s so soft and he smells good and OH MY GOD PLEASE GET THIS CAT FOR ME I MEAN FOR YOU BUT CAN I PLEASE VISIT ALL THE TIIIIIIIME?????” And that was that.
Berkeley remained the best cat ever (seriously, he didn’t tear anything up and was sleeping every time I visited) for about two weeks. Coincidentally, two weeks is the shelter’s ‘trial’ period to determine if the pet you adopted is a good match for you. Well played, Berkeley. Overnight, the quiet sleeping kitten I had become accustomed to was transformed into a running, jumping, scratching, puking, eating, and non-stop meowing destroyer of all things. Basically, he turned into a normal damn cat.
The best example I have to illustrate his behavior is something we’ve covered before here and here. Basically, cats have within them an innate drive to murder and destroy all things which bring joy and beauty to your life. Here is Berkeley doing just that:
Berkeley, however, doesn’t just eat the flowers. Instead, he takes the dick game to a whole new level (and yes, I’m aware that sentence sounded vaguely pornographic). Most cats, when reprimanded for eating the dining table display, will either retreat somewhere to sulk until you leave and then shit on your bed or they will promptly barf the flowers right back up on your dining table. Berkeley however, isn’t taking any shit from anyone:
Hell, I’d like to bitch slap anyone that tries to tell me how to live my life too so I can totally respect what Berke is doing here. Plus watching an overweight cat rear up on its hind legs and slap at a grown man that is trying to make him stop eating a bouquet of flowers is definitely one of the funnier things I’ve seen. So I’d say that this new cat situation has turned out quite great for me….I get to hang out with a hilarious cat that does stupid things that I can exploit on my blog, but I don’t have to live with the nightmare of actually owning him. WIN-WIN!
So, this is a project I’ve wanted to do for a while, but I have a life and got behind on doing stupid shit to my cats.
Last night while sitting on my couch, probably watching Khloe and Lamar and eating potato salad, I suddenly remembered I wanted to bread my cats. Quigley is always hiding, and Browning is easy to fool if you promise him food, so Browning it was.
This cat is a complete dick to me always. He wakes me up in the middle of the night to cuddle because he’s too busy ignoring me when I get home from work. He hides under my bed and goes after my feet. He knocks my shit over all the time. He chews cords. He’s the reason I started this blog. Naturally, breading this asshole wasn’t going to be easy.
I was pretty proud of myself and texted Suzanne almost immediately. She replied with “Breading was so three months ago.” So, cats aren’t the only dicks.
Epilogue:
After I was finished breading, I returned to the couch, probably to finish my potato salad. Browning immediately ran to his litter box, even though he took care of business five minutes before I breaded him, to punish me. He sat in his litter box for 10 minutes, forcing himself to go, and then didn’t even bother to cover it up. Dick.
Whether it’s a ponytail holder, a nail file, tube of chapstick, or candy in a candy dish, cats assume that we fill our lives with these things just for their amusement.
I recently bought a mini chalk board to hang by my front door that I can write vulgarities and other insightful thoughts on. So that means I need chalk, and in a cat brain, chalk equates to an entire box of cat toys.
Phase 1: Discovery of chalk.
Phase 2: Scientific analysis of chalk to determine how aerodynamic and easy it is to knock off the washing machine and into a deep, dark place where the human will never see it again.
Phase 3: In one swipe, destroy the chalk.
Phase 4: Confirmation of chalk newly located in black abyss.
Mission is accomplished.
Because it’s never bad timing for an infographic, I present to you, another.
Now I have the answer.
Cats Are Such Dicks 