Something Cat-astrophic

Having left my indelible mark on my brother’s blog, I have nought to do but await his rebuttal. In the mean time, I thought I might, for no particular reason, bring you up to date with respect to certain goings on in my bailiwick.

There is, alas, a “new member” to our household, of the feline kind.

After having “stood fast” for a number of years, my good wife and I finally succumbed to the interminable petitioning of our youngest lad and presented, for Christmas, said begat with a kitten. The kitten, “Isaac” by name, (having been bestowed this sobriquet in honour of Sir Isaac Brock, hero of the War of 1812, by its “littermate”, that being, from the kitten’s point of view, our youngest), is adapting well to its new environs.

I, on the other hand, am having some difficulty adjusting to the presence of “fuzzy face”, in view of the fact that he has taken to attacking, with a gusto that belies his size, my toes in the middle of the night.

As admirable as this may be, given that the subject Kamikaze weighs a mere 1.5 lbs., I have to confess that I fear this might be the thin edge of the wedge. Having lived with more than a few cats, I anticipate, with a certain degree of trepidation, finding everything that I hold dear, eventually, festooned with cat hair and, more disturbing, I also expect, in the near future, to be listening to the little blighter coughing up hair balls under my bed in the middle of the night.

Don’t get me wrong. I like animals. I just prefer them in their natural state – either running free somewhere in the jungle or on my plate, done to a nice medium rare. Actually sharing living space with them, in my view, leaves something to be desired.

Unlike some “animal lovers”, I have little difficulty making the distinction between a “pet” and a “member of my family”. (I can just hear those squeaky little voices chanting; “Oh, Fluffy is just like my own child”).

For those of you who might be struggling with this issue, please let me point out a few things that might bring the matter into clearer focus.

1. In most cases, your children will share your DNA and, in fact, would have emerged from your womb or, if you happen to be male, the womb of your partner. (This observation, of course, presupposes that your “partner” is human. If, however, your “partner" is a llama, all bets are off).

2. In those cases where your child does not share your DNA, you will have gone through a rather lengthy legal process whereby said child is deemed by the Court to be, among other things, your heir.

3. In either case, assuming that YOU are human, it is highly unlikely that any child of yours would be completely covered with fur, and, oh, look, IT WOULD NOT HAVE A FUCKING TAIL!

Get it?

Human children DON’T HAVE TAILS!

I know this comes a shock to some of you – the whole tail thing – but you’ll just have to trust me on this one. If you have an opposable thumb, and you’ve been, let's say, breast-feeding something with a tail, you need to have a serious talk with your personal physician.

In any event… there’s a cat wandering around my house.

I suppose I’ll just have to adapt.