Gooooood morning, Monday! And goooooooood morning, Monday morning commuters! Roads are dry, roads are clear… don’t you cry, don’t you fear! No rocks on the road, no fog in the air… cars aren’t slowed, everything’s fair. Holy smokes… I’m a poet that didn’t know it! My feet know, though: they’re long fellows.
So, today is National Cat Day. Some of you may recall that I recently came out of the closet, and confessed that I may have become a cat person (of course, I experimented a little in college, but never really counted that). I did so right here, in this column, a few weeks ago, when I admitted to myself and bravely confessed to the WORLD (well, the fifteen readers of this column, not counting Mom and a few clicks that I might sometimes give it, just to “keep readership numbers up”) that… I have become a cat person. I am a proud homopetual… there… said it! Proudly now, I can strut about, tail in the air… nothing to hide! Of course, even here in Catifornia, there are restrictions that do not allow my domestic petner to receive the full benefits that a human gets… but we’re working on that. Someday, full rights for pets: medical benefits, voting privileges, driver’s licenses… someday. And, hey… this is CALIFORNIA… don’t think that it could not happen!
First, I feel very, very liberated… it’s good to not feel the need to hide my feelings for felines. I am proud and won’t pretend to be anything that I’m not… I am a cat person! Hear me roar!
Sure, my family tried to do an intervention… not my close family, because as it turns out, they are also felinophiles. But I came home a few days ago to find a bunch of the more distant ones sitting in my living room, chairs in a circle. They explained to me how it just isn’t natural… it’s not how God intended. And, being pretty serious about it, they had gathered up the funding to send me off to a, “re-orientation seminar,” where a bunch of unorthodox methods are used to basically beat the cat out of me. They claim to be able to take a person who identifies as a cat person, and make them “go straight” again. I’m a little skeptical, though… I think maybe I was born this way, and I don’t think this is a product of my environment.
Anyhow, today there may be cat pride parades… not sure where. Maybe in Katmandu? Or Austraylia? Or Katzakstan? Purraguay? South Africat? Meowntana? Taillahassee? Those all seem to be quite a distance… I wonder if there’s parade in Calico? Or even in Phelan?
Well, celebrate with a drink, anyhow… take a shot of Scotch Whisker, or purr yourself a beer. Or, make yourself a trendy new drink, like the “Garfield”—Fat Tire beer poured over a slice of lasagna. Make it at home or else you’ll jus spay too much at a bar (where prices are NOT feral the time). Especially if you go to a neuter bar, and run up a big tabby.
Or, throw a cat party! No… scratch that. Let’s just paws for a moment, and not let this National Cat Day become something that’s not up our alley… you don’t want to get too hissterical. Maybe you want to run a meowathon… order some prrrfume or new pawjamas from a catalog… or get mice cream cones. Or, if receiving some appawse from your cat is what you really want, just treat it to some canned food today, scratch its chin a couple of extra times (until it runs away to it’s preferred location of NOT near some pesky human annoyance), and call it a day.