Cowboy up
Since my dear sister is leaving on a 19th-century-style train journey tomorrow and will be able to do hours and hours of uninterrupted knitting, which makes us green with envy even though green is not a becoming color on us so happy for her, I will be the lone KnitSister for the rest of the week.
Y’all are just going to have to cowboy up. As we used to say back when we were ridin’ the broncs and ropin’ them dogies. Ah, them were the days!
But I digress.
While Sarah is riding the Trans-Midland-Empire Railroad, I will be stuck here, still knitting Icarus,
For all the trouble he’s given me, I still find him breathtakingly handsome…
still trying to get my conference presentation under control, still trying to be frugal,
I have no idea where those balls of Koigu came from…
and still living with a murderous and very stupid cat.
Much has been said about the differences between cats and dogs, but I think the following contrast tells the whole story for me: when a dog owner dies tragically and alone in her home, it is common for the authorities to arrive days later to find the dog, in a heart-rending show of loyalty, still guarding the lifeless body; when a cat owner dies under similarly tragic circumstances, it is common for the authorities to arrive days later to find that the cat has eaten parts of her face.
Yes. I know it’s horrifying. But even if you are a cat lover, I challenge you to deny—and be honest, now—that if you were suddenly rendered lifeless, after a couple of days your feline “friend” would forget who you were and start regarding you as a really big helping of Fancy Feast.
I am resisting the joke about gravy as being too tasteless even for me.
But Zeno, our cat (or rather Alex’s cat by a previous relationship), is—in addition to being inexplicably surly and probably homicidal—the dumbest cat I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.
As you may have noticed, like most stepparents, I have mixed feelings about my stepcat at times.
The mix is about 90% loathing, 10% disgust.
This morning, Zeno got “stuck” in the driveway again (here he is atop the hood of the derelict truck, photographed through my office window last summer). He has done this 5,874 times and has yet to learn anything from experience.
He then spent the better part of 45 minutes sitting outside my window meowing. Apparently, he had once again gotten over to that side of the house and completely forgotten how to get back. This, added to his general confusion about how windows work, left the poor little demon high and dry. I tried to speak to him about it through the window:
Me: Dude, you can go right back through the gate, where you came from, and come inside and see me. I mean, if that’s what would fly your flag.
Zeno (shoots hateful look): Mrak-mrak!
Me: I’m telling you the truth. You’re the one with trust problems.
Zeno (sourly): Hell-whoa.
Me: Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not opening the window. It’s freezing out there.
Zeno (plaintively): Hell…whoa.
Appallingly, this kind of woman-cat conversation can go on for literally hours. But I think we’re stuck with Zeno. No one else would adopt him. He’s foul, after all.
No, I think we’ll just have to endure.
And luck being what it is, the little devil will probably live to be twenty-three.
Cowboy up.
October 25th, 2006 at 12:15 pm
No, no, no! You miss the point! The cat has you figured out – he’s driving you crazy by sitting outside YOUR window and making noise, thereby stopping whatever activity you are currently engaged in, so that you can focus TOTALLY and COMPLETELY on him. Dogs don’t care, just feed, pet, walk – cats want all the attention, all the time.
October 25th, 2006 at 3:53 pm
It could be a whole lot worse.
Tortellini has taken to peeing behind the toilet, thus necessitating having the bathroom door closed all the time when she’s indoors. We’ve encouraged Hugo to just end her life quickly, but so far he has not obliged.
October 25th, 2006 at 6:21 pm
‘Stepcat.’ Brilliant.
October 25th, 2006 at 10:56 pm
I hate to disappoint you, but dogs find our corpses rather tasty as well.
I have told my feline children they have permission to snack on me after I’m gone, but only if their bowls are empty, and I asked them to start at the feet. Not certain if they will comply….
October 26th, 2006 at 12:32 am
Wow. I’m not sure I can comment without running to the bathroom to be ill. Yikes. I guess I live in denial that I’m only one oversleep away from being a carnivore snack. Better keep one eye open, folks.
It strikes me that cats have no long term memory. Kinda like that movie ’50 First Dates.’
And Ellen, no story would be complete without an antagonist. Let’s review: Alex–good guy, Shelley–good dog, Ellen–heroine par excellence, Mr. Lee–sometime antagonist, Handsome stepkitty–the Old Nick.
October 26th, 2006 at 6:27 am
I’m glad to see your conversations with kitty continue. Mwa haha. Zeno looks quite handsome in that first photo, although still not as handsome as Shelley on her worst hair day.
October 26th, 2006 at 7:53 am
Carolyn, about this dogs feasting on human corpses bit: I’m sure it has happened, but let’s all just admit right now that a dog would think twice whereas a cat… Well, one shudders at the thought.
But since you seem to like cats, I can offer you one at a low, low price…and I ship free! And, as Laura says, he is a mighty handsome kitty!
Lorinda, yes, there must be an antagonist. While I would say that your analysis is spot-on in most regards, I believe that if you read for subtext, I often enough appear here as the “Bumbler Par Excellence.” Mr. Kitty, however, is pretty much always Satan.
October 26th, 2006 at 8:17 am
Well, Zeno is really just attempting to train you properly, and being more of a dog person, you’re resisting, as is only natural. Cats, however, are stubborn. They like a challenge. See? He knows perfectly well how to get back, he just wants to make you bow to his will by coming outside, grumbling, and schlepping him into the house. (Ok, ok, maybe that Satan thing is correct…)
Plus what Deb said.
(No, I can’t take Zeno. My apt. doesn’t allow pets, even for an outrageous fee, and I couldn’t afford vet bills and such anyway. Dammit. I come pre-trained. Otherwise I’d say drop him by on your way back from Vancouver BC. No, I don’t mean from the plane! Although even for a cat-lover, the thought of Kitty Airborne paratroops makes me giggle.)
October 26th, 2006 at 8:43 am
A cat is the ultimate pragmatist with a wicked sense of humor….and your Icarus is lovely, I wish I had the courage to start one, but we have a son and his 2 year old living with us temporarily, so I can barely count even as far as a 3 stitch repeat.
October 26th, 2006 at 10:16 pm
Zeno isn’t evil, he just needs therapy! Like all animals, there are good, bad and psychotic versions in every species. The nice thing is that if a kitty goes crazy and attacks you he/she can’t shoot you… nor can it rip your throat out like some of the larger, scarier dogs. Okay, so maybe if you were incapacitated and the cat had lots of time it could tear your throat out little bits at a time. I’ve always made jokes about being the crazy cat lady who would someday become kibble substitute. But in all honesty, I don’t know if that has really happened before. Your Icarus is totally beautiful!