Sunday, January 17, 2010

Guest Blogger: Grandpa Cat

I suppose I'm different. How many us care about humans one way or the other? Sure, they're good for a meal, usually provide a warm spot to curl up in, but other than that, what purpose do they have? That's pretty much how I felt about them back when I was a kitten. But then, when I was looking for a research project as a graduate student at Pussycat U (go Neanderthals) I chose humans. No one else was interested and I figured I had a better shot at a good grade since I wouldn't have any competition. I sometimes wish I would have pursued bird populations in suburbia or rodent habitat, but I went down the homo sapiens road and, well, it is what it is.

Not that my studies haven't been rewarding if, for anything else, the pure humor inherent in human behavior. I mean, what kind of creature rubs paper on their heinies? Do they think they are adequately cleaning themselves? What the hell do humans think tongues are for? Go figure. One of nature's greatest mysteries, I guess.

Any kitty thinking about entering the field of humanology must refrain from the classic mistake: Don't try to felinepomorhize people. Whatever thoughts spring into fat-infused human brains, you can bet those ideas aren't anything like normal thinking. Take a person staring out a window for long periods of time. You think: I do that. He must be looking for prey. Wrong. I've never seen a human yet go after a mouse or a bird. They might run after a dog with a broom, but they don't try to catch them. If they do accidentally get a hold of one, do you think they bite the back of their necks and shake 'em dead? Nope. Hell no. They're wayyy more likely to go back and pick up the dog's poop in a plastic bag. WTF? Never been a cat that would do ANYTHING with a pile of dog crap, but people collect it. I don't know what they do with it, and I don't want to know.

Anyway, I'm working on a paper: Catnip and People: Symbiotic, Interspecies Drug Trafficking or Stupid Humans Forgetting they put their Stash in a Fake Mouse. I'll report, you decide. That's all for now. I will take questions on human behavior, but don't ask me why people hold up a big rattlely paper at breakfast, indicating they want to play, then push you off the table when you take them up on their offer. No kitty knows the answer to that.

-Translated from incessant 'Meowing' into 'Plain 'Ol English' by
Keith B. Ellis, Grandpa Cat resides in Everett, WA and spends much of his days sleeping, pooping, and writing. The cat, not Keith.

Actually, Keith too.

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