Check Meowt

The best, and well, most appropriate interlude to my blog is a post on cats. If you know me, you know I am uber-feline-friendly. But not in the sense of Hello Kitty (don’t bother trying to argue that she is the queen-of-cats, because she’s not; she’s overrated, and that’s all the exposure I will give her on here). 

Cats seem to be really in right meow. I mean right now. For example: cat hangers, cat t-shirts, Grumpy Cat and even skanky cat costumes.

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But I liked cats before they invaded Urban Outfitters, college campuses, and internet memes. Not to say I don’t own cat shirts from Urban, have Halloween cat ears and tail, or enjoy a good cat joke, but real cats are the real deal and they’ve stolen my heart since I can remember. Well actually, I think there was a period of time, roughly around the age of 4, when I didn’t totally love cats because I threw my sweet feline down a flight of stairs onto a concrete garage floor, simply to see if cats really could land on their feet despite a large fall. He did land on his feet, but I got in big trouble (definitely got spanked). So despite that minor hiccup, it’s safe to say I’ve always been a cat lover.

But why? Many non-believers might say that cats are assholes. They’d argue that they’re totally self entitled; knocking shit off your dresser, walking on the keyboard as you type, hiding in places that the normal sized adult body cannot get to. They might argue that cats are boring; they won’t play fetch with you, meow on command, or bite the water coming out of the hose for your entertainment.

What these naive people do not understand, is that cats are fascinatingly bad ass. Take for example their utter independence. Set aside when they meow incessantly for their wet food at 6 in the morning, completely pissing you off, and look at the bigger picture. You let them out of the house, they explore the great outdoors, kill a bunch of shit, and bring you home a family of bunnies (I am a vegetarian, so in no way would I ever eat the bunnies, but it’s pretty bad ass that they can hunt like that). Also, they can climb trees, roof-jump and make a hammock out of the inside lining of the couch. They are insanely clean as well. No need taking them to the groomer each month for an expensive bath, because they spend every 5 minutes licking themselves spotless, and therefore make for the best bedtime cuddle buddies ever. Oh, and they purr. There is really nothing more fantastic than a good purr.

Did I mention they can beat the living hell out of a dog?

I suppose I could go on for a really long time as to why cats rule, but I won’t because I need to go hang out with my own cat, who is currently laying outside underneath a palm tree because she is super naturey and awesome.

Instead, I will leave you with a cat quote, because I know  you wanted one.

But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked. “Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” “How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice. “You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.” Alice didn’t think that proved it at all; however, she went on “And how do you know that you’re mad?” “To begin with,’ said the Cat, “a dog’s not mad. You grant that?” “I suppose so,” said Alice. “Well, then,” the Cat went on, “you see, a dog growls when it’s angry, and wags its tail when it’s pleased. Now I growl when I’m pleased, and wag my tail when I’m angry. Therefore I’m mad.
Lewis Carroll