All right. I'm not even buying this. My cat woke me up. You see, it's their birthday. St. Patrick's Day. I'm not one who necessarily thinks that a cat can understand everything you say to it, but the repetition of certain terms certainly does strike a chord of familiarity with them. 'Beer' for example is a word my boycat knows quite well. In fact, it is possible he thinks it is his name, because it is the only thing I say that he will actually respond to from across the room. Granted, I did name him Barley, and usually just shorten it to 'B', but I still think he knows what I'm talking about. Today I thought I would prepare them a feast of tuna fish and stout, see what happens. The girlcat could really take or leave the beer. She just likes to lick the condensation off of the bottles. Which works well, since the opening of the bottle is only large enough for one kitty tongue.
It's true. I am not an alcoholic--my cat is. Providing it the correct amount of residue to lap at requires tipping bottles regularly. And let's face it, he has a discerning tongue. None of this American macro brew nonsense. He's a fan of more aromatic hops driven micro brew IPA's. Ironically, Hops, the girlcat, really just likes water and almond milk. I've often wondered at how pets can take on qualities of their owners over time, the look of them, certain psychological characteristics, things like that. Owning pets now for the first time in my life, I see where they do have their own personalities, just like people, but for the rest, I guess they just don't have much choice. Environment forms us just as much as heredity. Perhaps even more, since inherent traits and abilities can evolve over time to suit current climates and needs. Fascinating stuff to ponder at sub 5 in the morning.
This has been brought to you while completely sober and rested, but don't worry, I'll fix that shortly.
No comments:
Post a Comment