Fucktard, the Cat.

Turkey, the cat.

(WARNING: This post contains explicit language and possibly likens cats to women, eeep!)

You probably read the title to this blog post. Check. You probably either immediately knew what I was talking about…or you’ve never had a cat. Check. Check. Well, in either case, I am here to elaborate on my cat and why it is (mere speculation here) that she is the way she is…. I would like to note that this could be the type of dangerous speculation that ends up going nowhere…like when a man tries to understand the innermost workings of a woman. Not that I mean to compare women to cats….oh shit, are women like cats? I need a drink….

…Ahhhh, much better. Maybe I should start at the beginning: my first cat. Little Booger, the baddest mofo cat around. I was in the third grade. He was a gift from my grandparents. We immediately became the best of pals. One night, I apparently tried to kill him in my sleep – I woke to the muffled cries of a tiny kitten trapped under my pillow…which was under my head. From that point on he slept in the crook of my armpit. He was the best. cat. ever. When we moved out to a more ‘rural’ suburb of Atlanta, he went with us. He hunted and left us disemboweled ‘presents’ on our doorstep, he purred while ‘making biscuits’ (and little claw marks) in my side, he ate canned food too fast and barfed it up on the carpet in my room….you know, typical ‘good’ cat stuff. Oh how I miss the days of a simple scarf and barf…. So it was quite a somber day when the best cat I’ve ever known passed away. Due to the frequency of the said ‘scarf and barf,’ it had become rare for Little Booger to be allowed to sleep in my room (or in the house at all, for that matter). I knew I was going to be up late studying for my Calc final and I literally begged my dad to let Booger up in my room for the night. (I had to promise to clean up any messes that were made on the carpet.) He fell asleep in the crook of my armpit, as usual. Early the next morning, I was awakened by the low moaning sounds of a feline in discomfort. I found Little Booger on the floor by the foot of my bed, seizing. I couldn’t do anything for him, so I spoke to him softly while petting his side. It was over almost as quickly as it had begun and like that, he was gone. The best cat I’ve ever known.

There have been plenty of other cats since Little Booger. Comet the christmas kitty, who fancied a premium quality cuban sandwich over any other food. Ginger the calico, who ate sweet peas straight from the can. Honi the house-warming gift, who promptly had a litter of kittens in the master closet. The triplets from the vet office which I raised from one week old with a baby bottle and many sleepless nights. Sprite and Fizz, brother and sister who would lick at a bowl of ice cream until they had ‘brain freeze’ visibly written all over their little faces. Big Kitty the magpie killer. Little Kitty the mouser. That’s only half of them. So, it’s kind of a wonder that after so much experience with cat types and personalities, I would pick out such a crazy cat as I have. To put it into perspective: A single friend (read: unmarried, no kids) was staying with us during a brief visit to town. The following morning, I saw him at the cafe where I work and asked him if the kids had driven him crazy over breakfast. “No,” he said, “but your cat is fucking insane. I kept watching her run from one place to the next, and all I could think was ‘This makes no fucking sense, AT ALL.'” Yeppers. My three kids who (combined) have rammed inappropriately sized foreign objects into nasal cavities, mistaken brown m&m’s for deer poop, and gotten a penis stuck in a hair clip, all seem ‘normal’ compared to this cat.

Her name is Turkey. She was kind of a birthday present for me. ( Meaning she replaced my original present, which was eaten by a coyote.) She spent her first two weeks at the house living inside the downstairs closet. I started bringing her out to meet everyone and after a few days it was like a switch went on and she constantly wanted attention. Once she started coming out of her ‘cave,’ Sami the dog started misbehaving during the day while we were at work. At first I thought that it was because Turkey didn’t really like playing with Sami as much as our previous cats did and therefore Sami was bored and lonely. Then I spent a little more time with Turkey and determined that Sami wasn’t lonely at all, she was simply pissed that we would leave her alone with such an annoying creature. Turkey follows us around the house incessantly meowing, pawing at our hands, and being, in general, a fucktard. She runs from room to room like some invisible monster is chasing her. She will meow and meow and meow for us to let her into the garage….and once she is in the garage she will meow and meow and meow to come back into the house. I think she believes that she is part spider since she tries to run up vertical walls for no apparent reason. She eats my plants, my lemons, and my toilet paper. She wakes me up in the middle of the night by biting my toes, then she wants to snuggle and try to get some lovins. Her cat farts are worse than dog farts….which is admittedly both annoying and impressive, it’s annoyingly impressive….

My husband, who had zero animals when we first met, likes to laugh at my annoyance with this particular feline. You see, he never wanted a cat, or a dog, or a horse, or goats, or chickens, or cows….. But, truth be told, he’s adjusted to farm life quite well and he enjoys the animals…except for the cats. He is so happy that this one cat pisses me off on a daily basis. He walks around with the biggest shit-eatin’ grin on his face because he thinks he’s somehow proved a point with this cat, like she will somehow cure me of ever wanting a cat again. What he doesn’t realize (due to a lack of ‘cat experience’) is that all cats are fucktards, even the good ones. No worries though, he married just the right woman to give him all the ‘cat experience’ he could ever need and then some. And while I’m strongly hoping that we don’t end up with another ‘Turkey,’ I am confident that another feline family member is on our horizon….


2 thoughts on “Fucktard, the Cat.

  1. I, too, am a cat person and have had wonderful experiences with lots of them. I absolutely loved this piece. We need to find a place for your writing..its wonderful and should be enjoyed by the millions. 🙂

  2. Thanks Sylvia! I have been in touch with Colorado Central Magazine in Salida and they are thinking of running a piece in their April issue. I will definitely keep you updated on our progress at getting word out on The Crowded Acre.

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