Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Stupid Cats

My cats are stupid. No doubt about it. Lazy, too. Did I mention lazy? Lazy and Stupid. If I'd some foresight I would have named them Lazy and Stupid instead of Sandy and Nobbs. A little kitten, though, does not provide the clues necessary to determine if a cat will grow up to be lazy or stupid, but take if from me, a long time cat owner, one of the two traits will predominate.

Let's start with lazy. Sandy lounges around the flower bed all day. That's after he's had a morning snack. He meows at the bedroom window in the morning so I'll get up, let him in and pour him a snack of his favorite Cat Chow. I trained him to do that.

I then stumble back to bed to wait for Nobbs to begin his morning ritual. He paws at the bedroom window, about 30 minutes after Sandy, for me to get up and pour him a bowl of his favorite Cat Chow which is different, of course, from Sandy's. I trained him to do that, too.

I stumble back to bed.

At wake-up time I rise, shower, dress, pick up the morning paper and pour myself a cup of coffee from our automatic coffee maker which, hopefully, has been loaded and primed the night before and ready to deliver its life-restoring brew. Often, that is not the case. Mental note: must train the cats to do coffee.

The cats, meanwhile, mill around ready for their breakfast. So, before I make breakfast for myself I feed the cats some charming entree like Sliced Dead Bird or Month Old Tuna. I deduced those names from the smell. Cats happily chomping on their favorite dead thing, I pour myself the remains of Cheerios, mostly dust, or the remains of Special K, mostly dust, slop on some milk and choke it down.

It's hard to concentrate to read the morning paper above all the purring. I trained them to do that.

Sandy hops up on the table and finishes the milk in my cereal bowl. I trained him to do that.

By the time I'm ready to go to work Sandy is sacked out on the living room couch and Nobbs is curled up on my pillow. I trained them to do that.

On the way to work, dodging idiots on the Beltway, I think about the poor cats, stuck in or around the house all day, nothing to do but sleep or chase small critters. I break hard for a Super Idiot cutting in line seconds before the toll booth. Heart racing. OK, not dead, accelerate and cut off a Jetta, driver talking on a cell phone. So long, sucker! Heh, heh! I'll save microseconds getting to work after that maneuver.

I pull into the parking lot and manage to cut off a Honda that hesitated in front of the only slot in the row. The driver flipped me off. I waved back and pointed to the slot, "Mine! Have a nice day!"

As I walked into the main building I thought of the 100 email messages awaiting me, a safety meeting, the fact I'm a zillion dollars over budget, impending layoffs, the dreaded meeting with the Idiot Customer and the fact I left my money at home and would have to bum lunch from someone. Typical day. The coffee machine was mostly broken and gave me a cup of luke warm brown water. Score, at least it's brown!

On my way to my office I pass my boss. "Yo, Bro, Sup?", I say in my most professional manner.

"Veep presentation is today, not tomorrow. You are ready, aren't you? It's VERY important. (to me)," he intones.

"Oh, yeah, Sir, yes Sir, three bags full, presentation ready since last week. No prob. See you at 9!", I reply walking faster, "Break a leg!", I hope.

Presentation at 9am, hmm, all I need to do is change "2004" to "2005" and who will know the difference. Besides, retirement is looking like a good option.

I thought about the stupid cats. "Stupid cats," I thought, "sleeping their days away in the house. Nothing do but hang out." I trained them to do that.

Stupid cats.


Meg said...

I want my cat's job, too!

Mollenkamp said...

Nice blog. The cats have it pretty good.

kilowatthour said...

I trained my cats to sit on books I'm reading, and push things off the desk. Also to hurl their twenty pound bodies against any door closed to them. They're really quite trainable, cats.

Anonymous said...

If I could be any animal...

You know what I'd be. And its not a dog.

All cats have to do is sit around posed in lovely picturesque places and groom themselves.

Now there's the life for me.