Not going to 91 springboard has its ill effects, it means, no coffee and no coffee translates to a gnawing head ache and a gnawing headache makes me feline. That is when Chits called me to ask, ”Hey Chats and I were wondering if you would like to join us for a movie after all with Mr.D being away you might be bored.”
Politely I informed Chits that I am catching up on sleep.
“That is because you are bored. We’ll pick you up at 6pm ” she decreed. Now I have to think of ways to be non-reachable at 6pm. The headache only seem to worsen I really envy the cat next door, it is sunning itself on my ledge. It must have got an inkling that I was eyeing it in askance and its expression was , “hey get’orf, I sleep twenty hours out twenty four so don’t consult me on the equation of boredom and sleep.”
So here I am trying not be catty and my blog calendar reminds me that Jan.22nd is America’s answer Your Cats Question Day.
Considering we are Modifying into a Nation of Trumpsters, the proof being Halloween is suddenly a big thing. That “Kitty Party” will take on a new connotations. You will have Uncle Billy and Auntie Kitty discussing cat psychology and why their cats act in a certain way, what does the pitch, pace, pause of the meowing mean. And Jan 22nd would have been the day for you to unravel it if you were in America.
We could refer to the ready reckoner by the Californian veterinary medical association they have come up with a probable compilation of cat questions and answers. After all the conversations with the cats have been happening for nearly what 12,000 years.
Coming back to answering the cat’s question, it might be more relevant to get the cats to answer our questions. By the way do you know what happens to someone who asks too many questions… actually I wonder too… but in all probability it might get answered…serves them right.
Fortunately I have not been in Bertie Wooster’s condition, he flung open the door , and got a momentary flash of about hundred and fifteen cats of sizes and color, scrapping in the middle of the room, they all fortunately rushed past him out of the front door. Else imagine being part of the British aristocracy he might be honour bound to ask, “What’s your name”
And the cat might reply, “cats don’t have names.”
“No?” Bertie would have queried.
“No” cat leader would have said, ”people have name, because they don’t know who they are but, we are cats, and we know who we are so we don’t need names.”
The cats who give us Purr-fect insights to life, like the Ally-Cat might say, “I lived for a time out side canteens and cafeteria. It is the most boring dumpster I have visited. Most nights there was nothing except the hardened edge of the roti’s or weed brownies. But one could keep the buzz going.”
Then there was would be insight from Tabby Catguru “Humans and cats are mere the tangible products of history over which one has no control. Of course the saying goes that you can’t pick your parents though New-Age Knowledge says we do. How does it matter who your father was or your mother hit the street after weaning you? Its time you got a life.”
If were to question Ma Cat Devi about sex and love, she might come up with ,”sex is one thing and love is another, but then the word of a female cat who loves only when in heat and then shares it freely does not count. Female humans are apparently in heat year around!”
Lets not bitchy…despite all these conversational fragments, I think if animals could speak, the dog would be outspoken, blurting fellow while the cat would have the grace of never saying a word too much.
In case you can get the hang of the cat-o-phony and only require translation do check this out.