BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

A gentle reminder: I don’t just spout silliness here on this blog. I also write novels. Those are what put the bread on the table, but bread is just about it as far as that goes. My wife has to bring home the bacon (and broccoli, and eggs, and milk, and…) That’s not what this is about, however…

If you have read my official bio over on my regular “author type person” website then you have probably run across the part about us having a pair of rescued felines, both of whom I describe as “the competition.”

Why “the competition?” some have asked.

Easy. They’ve got a thing for The Supreme Redhead. Yeah… E K.

Now, I realize that sounds a bit paranoid, but let me tell you a story. A recent story, in fact, and not at all unusual around here with these furry lunatics.

Just the other night, E K was on the sofa, and Competition #1, AKA Asphalt (because we rescued him from the middle of a highway on-ramp) immediately climbed onto her lap. He does this every time she parks for more than two minutes. Yes… I can hear you now, “But, Murv, that’s normal for cats.”

Yeah… sure.

As usual, E K babbled at him a bit, making all those “wooja-wooja ai lub yoo” noises and scritching him behind the ears. Now, remember, Asphalt started life as a kitten the size of a large hamster, but has grown to better than 20 lbs and has a head the size of a small melon. So, with him sprawled across EKay’s lap, she is sort of trapped.

The bag of tuna breath waited until she was finished and had directed her attention elsewhere. Then, he looked around, stared directly at me for a moment, then shifted a little, raised a paw, and copped a feel.

Yes. Pardon the colloquialism, but the old lardass planted his paw on EKay’s right “boob,” and left it there. Then, he looked at me with an expression on the order of, “Neener Neener, What’re you gonna do about it?”

And before you tell me that it was just a cat being a cat, I’d like to remind you that I saw the look on his face, so I know better.

All I can say is that if he starts bringing her dead stuff, he and I are going to go out back and have a talk. I’m pretty sure I can take him…

More to come…

Murv

So, the redhead has another guy in her life.

I had been under the impression for the past 25+ years that we were a monogamous couple. However, I guess that was just wishful thinking on my part, because it seems we aren’t.

I’ve suspected there was someone else for quite some time now. But, the evidence was sparse. However, in recent weeks, he has become bolder with each passing day.

I first noticed this boldness a couple of weeks ago. The alarm would sound, and as usual I would climb out of the sack, go start the coffee, and hit the restroom before climbing back into bed to give the redhead her morning backrub. At first it was just something in my peripheral vision, but it wasn’t long before his silhouette was right out there for me to see.

Not long after that, I caught him red handed. You see, when the second alarm goes off, I climb back out of bed, grab a cup of coffee, and head upstairs to the office. One morning a week or so back, I was lagging a bit behind in heading for the coffee pot, probably due to a Benadryl hangover. That’s when he became more than a silhouette. In fact, we literally ran right into one another as he skulked through the door to climb into bed in my place.

He was surprised, as was I. However, it didn’t stop him. No more did I fill my coffee cup and head toward the office than he was cuddled up next to the redhead, loving on her like something out of a really bad bodice ripper.

I guess I can live with it, for now… But I’ll say this: If the fat, furry, tuna-breathed little bastard horks up a hairball on my pillow, he’s toast.

More to come…

Murv