i would like to tell the cat, please stop looking at me like that, it makes me self conscious.
but she continues to stare like i've done something—big, or that she wants to kill me—bad.
this morning in between the time mandi came upstairs to let gizmo go to the loo, pickles managed to sneak her way downstairs.
the cat will hardly move enough to sneeze throughout the day, yet at the first sign of the daylight basement, she's gone!
i looked at her—lounging underneath the foot of the elliptical—and she gave me that look.
i backed away but realized her eyes were telling me something else. like, fuck you mom, stay here, just don't touch me.
in that moment, i totally understood.
Showing posts with label pickles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pickles. Show all posts
8.19.2011
11.14.2008
the cat woman.
this morning, last night and at least the past four years of my human existence, i've been worried about the very likely possibility that i will become the dreaded cat woman.
oh, you know. the cat woman, who takes up the whole aisle in the grocery store with her very full and very embarrassing cart of cat litter.
the cat woman, who thinks her silent sidekick is secretly learning how to be obedient by responding to commands such as "breakfast" and "bedtime."
the cat woman who refuses to get rid of any fleece blankets, in the event that her choosey friend decides she needs a new (but similar) source of comfort.
but, after a brief moment of terrifying images of stretch pants and overpriced kitty condos, i remind myself that there is still time. i can still snap out of this. i am not destined to high five the small light-orange paw of my four-legged friend for the rest of my life.
at the same time, i quite enjoy all of my quirky photos of pickles in various settings of luxury and play. i really do find it amusing that she is learning tricks and calms to the sound of my voice when i tell her to "relaxi taxi." and i live for the comfort of her reassuring little motor that hums in my ear, every night, at "bedtime."
the cat woman, who thinks her silent sidekick is secretly learning how to be obedient by responding to commands such as "breakfast" and "bedtime."
the cat woman who refuses to get rid of any fleece blankets, in the event that her choosey friend decides she needs a new (but similar) source of comfort.
but, after a brief moment of terrifying images of stretch pants and overpriced kitty condos, i remind myself that there is still time. i can still snap out of this. i am not destined to high five the small light-orange paw of my four-legged friend for the rest of my life.
at the same time, i quite enjoy all of my quirky photos of pickles in various settings of luxury and play. i really do find it amusing that she is learning tricks and calms to the sound of my voice when i tell her to "relaxi taxi." and i live for the comfort of her reassuring little motor that hums in my ear, every night, at "bedtime."
at this moment, i truly see nothing wrong with being a (cat)lover.
so you can have your small brand named chihuahua bags and truffle-shaped dog treats. and i'll have my pickle.
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