Normally I’d post this rant to my effyoucat blog. But a few months ago, a couple similar, somewhat more vulgar blogs called F***YouPenguin and F***YouCat went big time, and kind of sapped my will to snark about cats on my own humble, decidedly non-big-time blog. (It was humble, but pioneering in it’s own way, laying the groundwork for the proliferation of foul-mouthed animal blogs that was to come).
Anyway, that’s why I don’t post to EffYouCat anymore. Instead, I’ll complain about my cat here for you all to read. Corinne’s out of town for a couple more weeks, leaving me as the sole caretaker of our devil kitty, Yoko. We’ve already spent a couple weeks alone together, earlier in December, and I’m ready to admit something about Yoko. Ready? Here goes…I wouldn’t mind having her around except that she has:
- Claws
- A voicebox
- A social personality
If I could rip out her claws, her voicebox, and her trust in her human owners, I’d love that cat! Shoot, if I could do even one of those things, our icy relationship would thaw.
So, I guess what I’m saying is that there is a “perfect cat”–a Platonic ideal of what “cat” should be. And that perfect cat is mute, has no claws, doesn’t shed, and runs and hides under the bed whenever she sees me.
Someday I’ll find you and adopt you, perfect cat!
