Parrothead Ramblings

Let's see.....a conservative, and he hates cats. Coincidence?

I saw the truck pictured above earlier today in the East Valley. At first, I thought my friend AZ Cache Man had bought a new vehicle. He's a notorious cat detractor. I don't want to say "cat hater." That's a little harsh. I doubt that AZ Cache Man would go out of his way to run over a cat, but he probably wouldn't be real quick on the brake pedal if one of them wandered into his path.

Me, I'm ambivalent about them. I'd sooner have a feline-free home than one in which the little imps roam freely. I'm pretty sure I have bad Cat Karma, going back to my younger days when I regularly tormented the feral cats that lurked around the ranch I grew up on in New Mexico. I'd pop 'em in the ass with my BB gun every chance I got, and I once even buried a couple of them up to their necks just to see what they'd do. The answer was "nothing." They just meowed. In retrospect, I don't know what I really expected them to do. Not to worry, I released them unharmed and as far as I know anyway, neither of them needed counseling or grew into a serial killer. Give me a break, I was only ten and under the spell of an older, more worldly cousin. He tossed one off the wind charger one summer just to see if it would land on its feet. It did. For a split second, anyway.

So, it's no wonder I have never, ever, since that time owned a decent cat. Without fail, they've been destructive and/or ill-mannered assholes. I had one many years ago that had a penchant for pissing in my daughter's shoes. I was a GI at the time, and hell, I couldn't afford to buy shoes every time that cat had to take a leak. Since then it's been a succession of cats that have caused nothing but damaged furniture, urine-stained carpets, and the stepping on of hairballs while barefoot in the dark. We still have one cat, but she is relegated solely to the outdoors and seems to do very well out there. I still have to watch for hairballs and the occasional bird corpse while strolling around the backyard. Then there was the incident where she brought a couple of live snakes into the house. One of 'em slithered its way into Bo's blow dryer, and was incinerated into "blackened cajun snake" when she fired it up.

And then there's the whole "cat cleanliness" thing. It is wa-a-a-y overrated. Sure, they lick and wash themselves often. But they include their asses, and then they hork up the whole hairy glob in the most inconvenient spots. With a cat, you have to basically keep a boxful of shit stored in your home 24/7. The little demons regularly paw and sift through it, then walk around on your kitchen table and counters.

My friend Steve-O has cats. Several of them. Actually, Steve-O has a dog. His wife Rocky has the cats. But they all seem pretty well behaved, and I've never smelled eau de cat turd in his house. Maybe one of these days my Karmic Cat account will be balanced, and I can get a good one like his. It's doubtful, though. I think I'm in arrears until about age 90.
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