Cat People
Well, as I hitchhike down the road of self-discovery, I'm constantly surprised at what I stumble across along the way. Let me tell you about something that I guess should have been obvious but wasn't.
I got my first pet cat when I was still a boy in short pants. I remember naming her, even though I can't remember where the idea for the name came from. If I recall correctly, she was from a litter that my aunt's cat had. This cat was with me until I was almost out of high school, & is still buried near my folk's house. But for some reason, I always bitched & kvetched about not having a dog. Everybody else had a damn dog, it seemed. Why not me? Bear in mind I had no concept of picking up a dog's fresh feces or pulling fleas & blood-gorged ticks off of a dog's belly. All I was thinking about was...I dunno, playing fetch, I guess.
Years went by & I found myself living in a house just off the 2, in Glassell Park. It was a family-owned 3-house duplex, & guess what? They had 3 dogs. A pitbull, a german shepherd, & some curious beast that can only be described as a midget sea-lion with the head of a muskrat. Well those were some of the worst times I've ever spent. Dogs have a nasty habit of pissing on things you hold dear, & if you think dog food smells bad, imagine what their farts smell like. Not to mention, they keep their own hours & have no qualms with barking all night outside your bedroom window just to pass their miserable time on this earth...mangy curs! They chew on your only pair of shoes and snap at you when they're cranky. Of course if you shove a dog in a harpooning motion with an umbrella you're some kind of sadistic monster. Hm, what's that? That's right, in a harpooning motion, people! If an upstart canine throws the gauntlet I don't wait to be asked twice. Oh, & going to the dog park? Rubbing elbows with a crowd of buffoons who enjoy the company of these pea-brained pests? Thanks but no thanks. Some advice for a pet-owners first trip to the dog park...Watch your step, people; the hills are alive with the sound of music. By "the sound of music" I mean the hills are alive with dogs defacating, urinating, & dry humping on everything in sight.
In any event, I had an epiphone...a moment of clarity, if you will. My friend over by Dodger Stadium has a cat that had a litter, & was looking to move them out of his house asap. I was watching the game & enjoying a civilized drink when I mentioned that my girlfriend wanted a cat, even though, technically, she wasn't allowed to have one at her place. Long story short, now she has the kitten. Siamese markings. Strong resemblance to the cat my grandmother had when I was just a boy in short pants. And what do you know...it's relaxing having a cat. They like being around you & can be easily trained to use a goddamn litterbox. And then it hit me. My parents have a cat, they've always had a cat. My friend in Vegas has a cat. My friend by Dodger Stadium has a cat (of course). When you're around a cat, it's difficult to stay in a pissed-off state of mind. For me, at least. It helps that my girlfriend's cat has the temperment of a circus clown.
So now I know. I'm a cat person. Me, a cat person! Who'd a thunk it?
Man's best friend? Sorry, Fido. Like Bob Dylan said, "You're gonna have to find yourself /another best friend somehow."
I got my first pet cat when I was still a boy in short pants. I remember naming her, even though I can't remember where the idea for the name came from. If I recall correctly, she was from a litter that my aunt's cat had. This cat was with me until I was almost out of high school, & is still buried near my folk's house. But for some reason, I always bitched & kvetched about not having a dog. Everybody else had a damn dog, it seemed. Why not me? Bear in mind I had no concept of picking up a dog's fresh feces or pulling fleas & blood-gorged ticks off of a dog's belly. All I was thinking about was...I dunno, playing fetch, I guess.
Years went by & I found myself living in a house just off the 2, in Glassell Park. It was a family-owned 3-house duplex, & guess what? They had 3 dogs. A pitbull, a german shepherd, & some curious beast that can only be described as a midget sea-lion with the head of a muskrat. Well those were some of the worst times I've ever spent. Dogs have a nasty habit of pissing on things you hold dear, & if you think dog food smells bad, imagine what their farts smell like. Not to mention, they keep their own hours & have no qualms with barking all night outside your bedroom window just to pass their miserable time on this earth...mangy curs! They chew on your only pair of shoes and snap at you when they're cranky. Of course if you shove a dog in a harpooning motion with an umbrella you're some kind of sadistic monster. Hm, what's that? That's right, in a harpooning motion, people! If an upstart canine throws the gauntlet I don't wait to be asked twice. Oh, & going to the dog park? Rubbing elbows with a crowd of buffoons who enjoy the company of these pea-brained pests? Thanks but no thanks. Some advice for a pet-owners first trip to the dog park...Watch your step, people; the hills are alive with the sound of music. By "the sound of music" I mean the hills are alive with dogs defacating, urinating, & dry humping on everything in sight.
In any event, I had an epiphone...a moment of clarity, if you will. My friend over by Dodger Stadium has a cat that had a litter, & was looking to move them out of his house asap. I was watching the game & enjoying a civilized drink when I mentioned that my girlfriend wanted a cat, even though, technically, she wasn't allowed to have one at her place. Long story short, now she has the kitten. Siamese markings. Strong resemblance to the cat my grandmother had when I was just a boy in short pants. And what do you know...it's relaxing having a cat. They like being around you & can be easily trained to use a goddamn litterbox. And then it hit me. My parents have a cat, they've always had a cat. My friend in Vegas has a cat. My friend by Dodger Stadium has a cat (of course). When you're around a cat, it's difficult to stay in a pissed-off state of mind. For me, at least. It helps that my girlfriend's cat has the temperment of a circus clown.
So now I know. I'm a cat person. Me, a cat person! Who'd a thunk it?
Man's best friend? Sorry, Fido. Like Bob Dylan said, "You're gonna have to find yourself /another best friend somehow."
posted by I. P. Frehley at 6:59 PM
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