You’re zooming through an alternative realm, not only of sight and sound, but also of smells as Frank just finished using the litter box. An excursion into a Wonderpurr place where fences are high enough to reach the roof, and the stars have the pawsibility of being swatted from the sky. Get ready to mark your territory—your next stop is…
Wikipedia says Devolution or backward evolution is the notion that species can revert into more primitive forms over time. Purrsonally I think it means when a hoomom’s mind goes numb with no reason when she should know better. Kinda like Mariah Carey saying, “Whenever I watch TV and see those poor, starving kids all over the world, I can’t help but cry. I mean I’d love to be skinny like that, but not with all those flies and death and stuff.”
But I’m not talking about Mariah Carey. I’m referring to my own hoomom.
On Thursday afternoon I was reading Seville’s latest post entitled Stupid Is as Stupid Does where his soft-hearted imbecile – aka Peep #1 – felt sorry for Nosy-Neighbour Cat and opened the kitchen window to let him in. I’ll wait while you go read his story. Wake me when you come back, and I’ll continue.
It was a day-jah moo kind of experience for me. Like I said I’d just read Seville’s post when exactly the same thing happened in my backyard.
I wanted to go outside. It was a bright sunshiney day and it’s my fweakin yard. I wanted out. Well Mom said to wait while she made herself lunch and she would join me. After making stuff to eat, of which I had serious plans to nom half of what she had on her plate, she started to open the door when she saw Chevy the stray was out there.
Mom has this reputation for taming feral cats. She’s had a lot of success with it. I may be wrong, but it is my opinion that her success kinda anaesthetized her common sense.
Chevy hasn’t been around all that long. At least not long enough to succumb to Mom’s Disneyesque delusions that all of her cats will get along, sitting around a campfire singing Kum By Yah with the scent of rolled kitty hooch filling the air.
Mom thinks all she has to do is nudge Chevy aside from the door so I can go enjoy my sunshine, but Chevy has been neutered only a week or so. You might want to shoo the kittens and puppies from the room while you read the rest of my Tale of Woe.
By the way, here’s the bass-terd’s mug shot:
Yep. You guessed it. When Mom nudged ol’ Chevy, he hissed something unprintable in a G-rated blog like our Wonderpurr.com, and attacked me. Next thing I know, we are rolling around in circles with Mom holding her lunch in one hand and her phone in the other. She reached down to pull Chevy off me and got a gash in her finger that will surely turn into a scar.
A scar that I hope reminds her FOREVER that for all of her love of cats, not every cat is as WONDERPURR as me.
She managed to get me back inside, and then took a broom and told Chevy to leave the yard. He did, but without apology for his actions.
I’m okay. Really. Kinda sore. Kinda sore at my Mom actually, for being so STOOPID. But hoomoms are like that aren’t they? Not all are the evolved species they think they are. After reading Seville’s post I’m kinda thinking his Peep #1 and my Mom are sista’s from another mista. They’ve been friends for years, so I guess maybe that explains it. Devolution is contagious!