Whence from an Aquatic Cousin comes. And cats.

To your left: "The Origins of Aquatic Cousin Two" or "This Probably Explains a Lot".

In the grand tradition of passing the Internet from mother to daughter, my mother delights in forwarding me emails that contain stories about/pictures of dogs, cats or chimpanzees. We take great delight as a family in creating "Monk-E-mails" (bless you CareerBuilder, for making this possible) and sending them to unsuspecting friends and relatives who most likely greet the offering with confusion and mild/mingled horror and amusement.

Today, for example, I finally got around to checking out a link to this article for Paw Nation (Something I'd probably entitle the newsletter about cats you know I'll be writing in twenty years when I'm a certified Cat Lady) that Mom had emailed me last week or so. . .and then realized that I had just read an ARTICLE about a website featuring nothing but cats, sitting in sinks. Literally, CatsinSinks.com. Maybe with a redesign this website would be more interesting, but so far I'm rating it far below LOLcats and their continual quest for cheezburgers.

Observe. Fig 1:

Here we have a cat, sitting in a sink. I, for one, would like some snappy dialogue with that.

Fig 2:

Definite improvement. Now we know what the cats are thinking.

Yes, this is pretty much what I do with my spare time when I have headaches and am skulking around the BDH of Aquatic Cousin One, siphoning off use of Internet and laundry facilities while she's being tortured by small children at work: rate cat websites. Ah, the glamorous life of those who work from home! Where may I order some self-discipline? And can it be combined in a capsule with Excedrin Migrane, because boy howdy have I needed some of that today.

My own cats are probably extremely angry at me because I haven't been home in about 24hrs. They have plenty of food and water and a clean litterbox, but this does not stop them from being vindictive little bastards when I am not there to give them attention all the damn time, like they are some kind of dogs. Last time I was gone for this approximation of time, I came home to an easy chair knocked over in the living room and angry cat vomit all over the couch cover. Ten days in Spain two summers ago bought me am armoire door half-torn off of its hinges so they could snuggle (and shed on) all of my sweaters.

The photo to your right is a perfect illustration of their respective natures; Gaia is laying on my chest on top of whatever book I was attempting to read for maximum GIVE ME ATTENTION BITCH-ness, while Kitten is barely visible in the background next to my copy of Watchmen, looking for all the world like he is dead or passed out.

Poor Kitten (true name Marmalade, but that is too many syllables for regular use) is semi-retarded; he thinks he can climb walls and once licked a lobster in its "face". He has also been known to scale countertops/the top of the fridge in a quest to drink from a cup that had bleach in it. Natural selection really has it out for that cat. Gaia on the other hand is an Egyptian Mau, dead smart, and uses her powers for evil. She also meows constantly which balances out nicely that Kitten has forgotten he has vocal chords/how to use them.

Another time I'll tell you about their old roommate Jung sa ya aka The Chubbers aka Fat Cat. Because I know you want more entries about cats, and cats that don't even belong to an Aquatic Cousin. (To relate this somehow back to aquatic-ness, I'll add that Kitten loves water. He lays in wait behind the toilet while I shower so he can roll around in the damp shower curtain when I get out. Apparently this is a holdover from whatever common ancestor of them/tigers was into water. Gaia, wholly smarter, only drinks it from her bowl. Kitten steals objects from me, especially hair ties and puts them in his water bowl. Delicious.)

Thus concludes today's entry about cats. I hope you enjoyed it. Mrow.

-AC2