my cat is a huge grouch
My cat is a huge grouch. And I swear I’m not telling you this because of a sick fascination with cute kitten stories and Anne Geddes photographs, this is actually about my mother. My cat is a huge grouch, except when she’s stoned out of her gourd on catnip. So whenever kitty is particularly ornery, Mom will give her some catnip – where “give” means “shove her kicking and mewling into a grocery sack full.” Then she’ll make some offhanded remark about how nice it would be to sit in a plastic bag full of pot.
Many months previous to the discovery of the Pettable Stoned Cat, my mother would pop in an old documentary about alley cats, which showed a couple scenes of educational cat sex. When I came back home for winter break, she told me about this with a gentle, mischevious gleam in her eyes and mentioned that Kitty seemed to enjoy the view of tomcat booty. This was, in effect, kitty porn.
But the bag-o-pot remark set me thinking. Mom’s spent the last 20 years raising my sister and I, trying to be a proper role model, and now we’re finally both old enough that she can start to relax. I’m sure she’s feeling approximately the same thing I do when I fly back to California… but dammit, she’s still my mother, and I still haven’t adjusted to this new, non-authoritarian relationship, and it’s just disturbing, that’s all.