As I believe I’ve mentioned here once or twice, we live with three cats. We love them for so many reasons, not the least of which is that they provide us with so many hours of entertainment with the wacky things they do, and then we get to say things like, “Well, it looks like the aliens are beaming messages into their brains again.” Because really, what other explanation is there for those times when they awaken from a dead sleep because, “My God, I must lick my own ass 75 times in a row RIGHT NOW!”
Additionally, having cats gives us the opportunity to refer to other creatures in the third person, as in, “The Bailey just pooed in the tub again,” or, “The Tigger just captured another lizard and is ‘playing’ with it in your office.” I have no idea why we do this. Perhaps it’s not actually the cats’ brains that the aliens are after. (Mwa-ha-ha! We’ve gotten the humans to refer to the felines in the third person. By next month they will be referring to them as, “Your Royal Highnesses, The Supreme Rulers Of The Universe”!)
But the most fun we have watching them is when, for no perceptible reason, the cats freak out and start running around like mad, turning somersaults in the air, and leaping up off the ground as if the aliens have moved from messaging them to herding them with giant, electric cattle prods. We have a friend who calls this “The Midnight Crazies”, with midnight lasting from approximately 9pm to 3am. We refer to this as, “poking them with sticks,” as in, “Dude, why are you poking the cats with sticks?” or, “Apparently the aliens are poking The Pip with very hot sticks today.”
The reason I’m mentioning this is that tomorrow I have to go to the dentist. Again. And while I really like all the people who work at my dentist’s office, I hate having to go there as a patient. Because basically, when you think about it, every experience you encounter at the dentist is the physical or emotional equivalent of Being Poked With Sticks. Sharp, pointy, drilling, gum-lancing, nerve-rending, bloodletting sticks.
So to make myself feel better I went to the bookstore today to find something light and entertaining to read after my procedures. I got a book called Bad Cat, brought to us by the people behind the awesome website My Cat Hates You dot com.
And because sometimes words can only go so far in describing what is hidden in the deep, dark, recesses of the human heart, I decided to leave you with one of the images from their site, in order to fully capture for you my feelings about tomorrow.
I couldn’t have said it better myself.