Kittycats.
They'll be perfectly content to snooze on your lap; and then they'll jump off, stroll into another room, and start caterwauling. Non-stop crying, it would tear out the hearts of the dead.
So you follow them to see what's wrong.
.
~ & you're thinking: are they hurt? ~ are they complaining about old, achey, arthritic joints? ~ are they giving vent to some stoically suffered chronic pain? ~ what are they trying to tell me?
~ are they yielding to some deep inner urge to yodel for potential mates?
~ are they hungry? ~ they've just been fed ~ are they peckish? ~ I just gave them treats.
~ are they bored? ~ how can they be bored? ~ when they want to play, they find a toy and play* ~ when they want to play with me, they bring me a toy.
~ are they lonely? ~ how can they be lonely? ~ I was right there, and they left.
.
Just before you come in, they stop; and when you look at them as if to say ~ what's wrong?
they look back at you as if to say ~ did you hear that sound? ~ I heard it too.
.
So you give them a little scritch, and through slitted eyes they seem to say:
~ooop ~ wait a minute ~ are those shoulders? ~ without a cat on them? ~ I'm supposed to be perched on those shoulders.
And !Allez Up! they go.
~ it's a darn good thing you came by. they say, your shoulders could use a cat.
.
Sometimes I think what they're singing is an Ode to Becel (as in the margerine commercials). The point seems to be to get me up off the couch, walking around, & doing something ~ something like, oh, I don't know, pumping kittycat weights, maybe.
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~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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*Or, they're all over each other like Mexican professional wrestlers... we want to give the kitties appropriate stage names, but we don't speak Spanish... so they're stuck with names like La Mamacita Grande! El Dulce! and El Pollo Loco!
Posted by edgar at April 30, 2003 04:10 PM