Sunday, February 19, 2006

Catblogging

I do not care for cats. Yes, they can be fluffy and cute, but I don't trust 'em any further than I can throw 'em. Actually, that's a lie. I could throw a cat clear across the room, but I wouldn't trust it a centimeter. I get creeped out by the feeling of a cat's paw walking on my lap, I don't much care for them brushing past my shin, I don't like the chilly little nose, and I certainly don't enjoy their tongues.

It all goes back to when I was about five years old, and a neighbor's housecat got out. My sister went to pet the pretty kitty, but the pretty kitty was alarmed by this. The pretty kitty bit a chunk out of my sister's thigh, took a few nibbles out of her knee, and raked long claw marks up her shin. I got shunted off to the next-door neighbor's for a few hours (they had a vinyl-covered couch, and vinyl pathways protecting the mottled harvest-gold shag carpet—oh, the trauma!) while my parents took my sister to the emergency room (that's "casualty" for you Brits, isn't it?). My sister had long, narrow strips of first-aid tape striping her shin, small bandages on her knee, and a big dressing on her thigh wound. Cats being filthy and disgusting creatures (Do you dispute this? What do cats lick? Every part of their hairy bodies. Plus they walk in their toilets.), of course, that big bite wound became infected. My sister still has a good-sized scar on her leg, and I still bear the mental scars—an abiding mistrust and fear of cats. You can tell me your cat is sweet and loving, but I still won't trust it and won't want it on my lap.

This post was inspired by Becky's post on her gay cat, where I left a comment about my childhood pet's sexual proclivities. Yes, our English springer spaniel Abby (officially named Lady Aberlyn, after that freaky lady from Mister Rogers' Neighborhood) livened up every slumber party my sister and I had. We'd grab somebody's pillow, plant an idea in Abby's dog brain, and next thing you know, somebody's pillow is getting the humping of a lifetime. Some dogs hump people's legs, but our dog had a fetish for pillows. (Does this make you want to hear My Humps?)

A friend of mine once had two cats named Nigel and Mr. French. I believe it was Nigel who was a sexual deviant. His owner would wake up to discover Nigel gripping the blanket in his teeth, pulling it back and forth in his crotch. Sometimes he'd be in another room with a blanket, but getting off on the blanket in private wasn't good enough. He'd drag the blanket into the room where his owner was, strictly to have an audience when he yanked his blankie.

Another friend of mine has a boyfriend named Nigel, who apparently finds it surprising that Americans think "Nigel" is kind of a silly name, and breathtakingly British. (We do.) As far as I know, human Nigel has never heard about cat Nigel, but now that it's on the Internets, his girlfriend can send him the link and spare herself the indignity of recounting the sordid tale aloud.

I know Blogger has been misbehaving lately and making it hard to read or write comments, but if you luck out and it actually works, feel free to share your own stories of perversity in the animal kingdom, ailurophobia, or Nigels. (Something for everyone, eh?)

7 comments:

amusing said...

I find the little cat teeth creepy. Ever so small and sharp. And they are so disdainful. Who wants a creature around who's going to look down its nose at you? The world is full of people who will happily do that to me without me feeding and sheltering and cleaning up after some furball who acts that way.

This said, my spinster sister is going to put her cat "to sleep" (what a lovely euphemism) any day now. She is quite attached and her furball is not as disdainful as some...

thenutfantastic said...

I have 3 cats and have been biten by a fair amount of cats that aren't mine as well as by the ones that are.

Early December my hands were mauled by a cat because I didn't feel comfortable letting him go out into the big blue beyond. (That cat has since been adopted and his new people love him immensely.)

Cats are actually dirty creatures because, in those claws, they carry cat-scratch fever. If you don't take antibiotics and clean your hands daily immediately after a cat scratches you, it could become infected with said virus and it can be deadly.

So yeah, you are definitely in your right mind with keeping your distance of any cat. I, however, don't seem to be, lol.

One thing that would certainly help all these humping tendancies would be to....spay/neuter your pets as soon as you can.

E. said...

I have a cat, and I like my cat. But I think any human has a right to dislike and distrust any brand of beast. Cats are undoubtedly dirty, even though they're cleaner than dogs, and they can be very bitchy. But I do think cats are like people: they vary. Some cats are pure sweetheart, others are totally neurotic and hateful. Mine is a little bit neurotic and a little bit sweet.

I don't like dogs. I'm not afraid of them (though I know on rare occasions some breeds maul children and bite people's faces off), I just don't like being licked by dog tongue, and I hate being humped without my consent. I also don't respect dogs. They are too eager to please. I like cats because, whatever their beastly tendencies, they are self-sufficient and not pathetic. (Apologies to dog lovers; I know what I see as pathetic some dog owner may see as loyal and affectionate.)

Delia Christina said...

his name was max. oh, sure, he looked all sweet and innocent with his black button eyes and his fluffy puffy white body. what a cute little lap dog, you'd think.

but beneath that toy poodle body was the sould of a pervert. while visiting my family one holiday i caught max doing a 69 with my old teddybear, sam. i was apalled. i was disgusted. i was strangely enthralled. max dragged sam to the floor with his teeth, turned around and humped his face.

vigorously. and for several excruciating minutes. my mother thought it was hilarious but i was totally disturbed.

Itchy said...

Our slumber party fun was making our dog hump my sister's Rainbow Brite doll. That was hilarious...she would get so upset...

Our next dog would lick her crotch to the point of pleasure and then her hips would go to gyrating and then it was just uncomfortable to watch...That seemed too perverted to laugh at...

The Absent Minded Housewife said...

I pulled my cat OUT of my trash can this morning. Nothing at all in the can except my dumb cat twirling himself around in there...dumb gay cat.

Mignon said...

I have friends that simultaneously named their human and cat babies Colin. Despite the British hottie, I've always thought Colin was a wuss name, but I guess it's actually a puss name. Ha!