Keep In Mind I Have To Lick That When You're Done
Since leaving Bozeman, we've met a lot of cats out there.
Cats that are just doin' what they're doin', not because
they have to and not because they were asked to, but
strictly because neither of those two things apply to
them. These cats shared their homes with us, and
in some cases their beds, sofas, and kitchens.
Some were very welcoming. Some were pretty neutral, I
think. And some were scared shitless of us and refused
to surface for pictures. But most were welcoming.
And most of them gave us their hair to remember them by.
Dogs do this too, but I don't think they know they're
doing it. They don't give you that look, as you're leaving,
that says, "You know, I did this as a token of my respect for
you. I didn't have to do it at all. You'll meet other cats
out there, and they might not be so forthcoming. They
might not leave a mark on you (or your garment bag)
the way I did. You'll see."
So this blog is for the cats that I do remember.
I even included Suki (Sookie?)
despite the fact that (as I mentioned) she pissed
all over my garment bag, inside our van, the
morning we left New Orleans.
And of course I included Mr. Adventure.
In fact, I believe this is Mr. Adventure's second
mention in our blog, for obvious reasons.
And I included M&M and Paddywack even though
their paranoia of the ceiling fan and their obvious,
physical intolerance of a closed door make for
disjointed attempts at sleep each night. Not to
mention the fact that the sounds they make while
licking their kitty parts, or in between
their toes, is enough to make us want to vomit a
hairball or two ourselves.
They still get mentioned here. They still get a
liberal dose of lovin', some hearty rubdowns,
and a few nonsensical, guttural phrases from us
while we scratch behind their ears with ferocity.
They still get remembered.
Celebrated, in fact.
So here's to irregular sleeping patterns, hidden
litter boxes, and nine lives (if only Ford vans
could do the same). Here's to licking away the bad,
napping in the sunshine, and making games out of
literally nothing. Here's to reigning supreme over
the confined, physical space given.
And here's to showing obvious gratitude by replacing an
already comfortable silence with the best sound on earth.
Cats that are just doin' what they're doin', not because
they have to and not because they were asked to, but
strictly because neither of those two things apply to
them. These cats shared their homes with us, and
in some cases their beds, sofas, and kitchens.
Some were very welcoming. Some were pretty neutral, I
think. And some were scared shitless of us and refused
to surface for pictures. But most were welcoming.
And most of them gave us their hair to remember them by.
Dogs do this too, but I don't think they know they're
doing it. They don't give you that look, as you're leaving,
that says, "You know, I did this as a token of my respect for
you. I didn't have to do it at all. You'll meet other cats
out there, and they might not be so forthcoming. They
might not leave a mark on you (or your garment bag)
the way I did. You'll see."
So this blog is for the cats that I do remember.
I even included Suki (Sookie?)
despite the fact that (as I mentioned) she pissed
all over my garment bag, inside our van, the
morning we left New Orleans.
And of course I included Mr. Adventure.
In fact, I believe this is Mr. Adventure's second
mention in our blog, for obvious reasons.
And I included M&M and Paddywack even though
their paranoia of the ceiling fan and their obvious,
physical intolerance of a closed door make for
disjointed attempts at sleep each night. Not to
mention the fact that the sounds they make while
licking their kitty parts, or in between
their toes, is enough to make us want to vomit a
hairball or two ourselves.
They still get mentioned here. They still get a
liberal dose of lovin', some hearty rubdowns,
and a few nonsensical, guttural phrases from us
while we scratch behind their ears with ferocity.
They still get remembered.
Celebrated, in fact.
So here's to irregular sleeping patterns, hidden
litter boxes, and nine lives (if only Ford vans
could do the same). Here's to licking away the bad,
napping in the sunshine, and making games out of
literally nothing. Here's to reigning supreme over
the confined, physical space given.
And here's to showing obvious gratitude by replacing an
already comfortable silence with the best sound on earth.
posted by g at
6:38 PM
2 Comments
