June 02, 2006
A three day weekend and a hundred milligrams of UPLIFT!, (that new over-the-counter drug that imbues animals with human-like consciousness) ground up into some Fancy Feast has confirmed what I have for so long suspected: my girlfriend’s cat is a bitch.
On Friday night, Misty ate the cat food with the drug in it. She took a couple steps backward and collapsed. We didn’t panic: the UPLIFT! box said this was normal. Then she slept for sixteen hours, also apparently normal. I spent all sixteen of those hours going “I still don’t think this is a very good idea,” except the hours Tara and I were sleeping or having what I predicted, both before and after, would be the last normal sex we would have, ever.
I moved in with Tara a couple months ago on a couple of conditions. I didn’t specify “no bitchy sentient cats,” and I didn’t think I had to, but science marches on and on Thursday night there was a big UPLIFT! standing display by the register at Costco and Tara said, “Wouldn’t this be fun? I get to have something fun-- you’re getting that Playstation game!” and it’s true, I was.
I don’t necessarily think consciousness should be an impulse buy but Tara has a very cute wanting-things face.
While we were making dinner Saturday night, Misty sat up and blinked. Then she looked at her food bowl.
“YOU DON’T SERVE IT A CRYSTAL DISH LIKE ON THE COMMERCIALS,” Misty said. “THAT’S FINE. I GUESS I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH.”
On the UPLIFT commercials the cat is voiced by Tony Bennett. I didn’t expect Misty to have the pipes of a crooner, necessarily, but I also didn’t expect the sawblade-versus-broken-violin sound that is cats saying human words.
“Uhm…hi, Misty!” Tara said. “I’m Tara, this is--”
“I KNOW.” Misty said. “I CAN REMEMBER THE DETAILS OF FANCY FEAST COMMERCIALS, YOU THINK I HAVEN’T PICKED UP YOUR NAMES BY NOW? THAT’S HONEYBEAR,” she said, nodding at me.
“Corey, isn’t that cute, she thinks my pet name for you is your real--”
“I KNOW HIS NAME’S COREY. I WAS MAKING A JOKE.”
“Oh!” Tara said. “Ha ha, I get it--”
“GOD, NEVER MIND.”
Misty spent the rest of her first hour of human-level consciousness expressing disgust that we could eat anything that wasn’t textured like cat food or mice, demanding that we get a universal remote that was more paw-accessible, and scoffing at things on television.
I return home from playing basketball on Saturday afternoon to hear Misty telling Tara "HE DOESN'T DESERVE YOU."
to be continued
inspired by this article from reason.com
Posted by DC at June 2, 2006 11:58 PM