Marm went bonkers.


I think my cat has freaking lost it. Like, really, really lost it. Like, he’s entered his happy place and his mental capacities have fluttered away lost it.

I caught him staring at the wall the other day. Not out the door or anything, he was literally sitting and staring at the wall. I went to my room for twenty minutes or so and came back downstairs and he was still there. I’m kicking myself for not having my phone on me to take a picture, but I swear on Matthew McConaughey’s rippling sixpack that it really happened.

Varenka has confirmed this suspicion that my cat has gone loco bananas.  She came over on Tuesday evening after our studio’s crazy yoga dance party (which I’ll tell y’all about in more detail on Tuesday, but guys it was so amazing) for our pity party and we spent a solid five minutes watching my cat, who was draped across an armchair in the most uncomfortable looking position ever, lick the air. Not his nose, which dogs do with astonishing regularity. No. The air. Like a snake does.

And then he just sat there like this for an hour.

And then he just sat there like this for an hour.

I realize I casually skipped over the fact that Varenka and I planned and attended something called a pity party, which is our new term for making mojitos in our pajamas and watching Doctor Who and not discussing all of the distressing happenings in our lives. This is partially because I wanted to get the bit out about the cat first, and partially because I’ve been avoiding mentioning that I didnt get in to grad school this year.

And that’s all we shall say on that subject.

Anyways, so my cat has gone nutters and I’m pretty sure he dragged my precious baby boy down the rabbit hole with him because as I previously mentioned, Pepper PEED on me twice last week. He flipped over on his back for tummy rubs and peed right on my leg with the kind of accuracy that human males never achieve (if the average fraternity bathroom is anything to go by). I can only assume that the cat offered him his body weight in Beggin’ Strips for the dirty deed, because my smoodlywoodle wouldn’t do that to me unprovoked.

Patty Mayonnaise seems to be above picking sides at the moment, as always providing proof that girls of any species are smarter than boys.

One comment

  1. Pingback: My man cat is female? | her name was cassandra

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