Dear Marc,
As you know, we have four cats, and one of those particular cats, the one named Nimbus, is a Spoiled Little Shit. He gets to sleep and eat in our bedroom while the rest of the cats live in the basement * This is because he is Your Cat, and I have come to accept that as long as Nimbus lives with us, you and I will never sleep alone. When Nimbus is cold, I let him sleep on my chest or on my head. As I am a heavy sleeper, this does not bother me. I spend hours every week petting him the way he likes to be petted, and scratching that one spot behind his right ear. I would happily do anything for Nimbus, including feed him and give him water. However, Husband of Mine, you have made it abundantly clear that you prefer to feed Nimbus. I know this is because you are secretly afraid that if I start plopping down the cat chow, he will begin to like me better than you, which I find slightly insane, but then, you put up with my pathological fear of mimes, so it all comes out in the wash.
I’m afraid I must insist, my love, that when you say you are going to fill Nimbus’ food and water bowls before bedtime, you do so without exception. We both know that Nimbus is blessed with uncanny intelligence and ability to reason, two traits not possessed by other members of our feline brood. We both know, also, that I must have next to my head during sleeping hours a large cup filled with water, because I am perpetually parched. Let’s review: empty cat water bowl plus genius cat plus large cup of water on headboard. What sort of wacky hijinks could yield from this equation?
Well, for example, round about 2:45 a.m., while I am sleeping peacefully, Nimbus might realize that he’s thirsty, and then he might notice that there is no water in his bowl. After some careful thought, it might occur to him that hey! Kate always brings a cup of water in here, and that cup of water is on the headboard! All I have to do to get something to drink is to go over there and get the water out of the cup! Which is fine with me, really. I honestly don’t mind sharing my water with the cat.
There’s a small flaw in his plan, though. You might have noticed, Marc, that Nimbus does not have thumbs, and not-having-thumbs is the difference from being able to pick up a cup of water and well, not being able to pick up a cup of water. Nimbus, using his great powers of reasoning, might deduce that the only way to get some water is to stick his head inside the cup, but then he might realize that the cup is very tall, almost as tall as him, and so he might come to the conclusion that the only way to get the water is to get up on his hind legs and balance his front paws on the lip of the cup so as to achieve an optimum water-procuring angle. But you know what, Marc? Tragically, although our cat possesses great intelligence, he does not in fact possess working knowledge of physics, and do you know what happens when a 10-pound cat gets up on his hind legs and rests his front paws on the lip of a cup of water? The water spills, Marc, and because that cup of water is on the headboard, it and its contents – approximately 24 ounces of cold water – land on my head. And my chest. And the sheets. And the blankets. And the cat, who is so startled by this merry series of events that he bolts from the bed, digging his hind claws into my wet shoulder. And then, Marc, after all of this, which causes me to yelp and bolt upright, which wakes you from your sleep, you get out of bed to go to the bathroom, and when I ask you to bring me a towel when you return, you are annoyed because my yelping woke you up. Let us not forget what caused this circus in the first place, dear: The cat didn’t have any water in his bowl. Could you please give the cat some water? Thank you.
* Note for People Who Do Not Know Us: We do not abuse our cats. Three of our cats spend most of the time in the basement because Marc and I are living temporarily with Melinda, who is terribly allergic to cats. Our cats are not abused. The basement in question is a finished basement, and the cats have their own furniture, television, VCR, DVD player, and Playstation 2. Sometimes they even invite us to come down and hang out. These are not neglected animals.
posted by Kate at 2:28 PM link/comments
