The other day, our cat, Odessa said to me, “If you ‘accidentally’ step on my tail ONE MORE TIME, you’ll be sorry every day for the rest of your life.” I said, “That’s a skosh extreme Odessa, and may I remind you that it’s really a moot point, because I hold the power in this dynamic. I feed you, and I can starve you to death at any given opportunity, so BACK OFF!” She ate the ivy plant in the bathroom that evening to remind me that she can feed herself.
I overheard Odessa talking to our ancient cat, Dammit, about me last week, and it wasn’t pretty. Something about me not having a clue about pets, relationships or who the Bachelorette is going to choose. It hurt my feelings, yet I still coo to my cats, telling them that they are just the cutest, smartest, bestest little kitty kats in this whole wide world, yes they are. I thought Dammit would ‘stand up for me’ when Odessa complained, but instead, she questioned AGAIN why I named her Dammit. Du’uh, that name sounded better to me than Whiskers or Peaches or Suzanne.
When Odessa tries to snuggle next to me on the bed during the night, here is our verbal exchange:
Odessa: I am going to curl up next to you now, so don’t turn over without telling me first.
KK: Oh, no you’re not. It’s bad enough having my nightly hot flashes, but with you on me, it’s beyond uncomfortable.
Odessa: Tough shit. Here I come.
KK: Get AWAY!
Odessa: No, here I come again.
KK: I’m going to kick you off the bed!
Odessa: You’d better not! Remember how I punished you the last time you did that. Did you ever find the one bedroom slipper that went with the other?
Odessa: I rest my case.
KK: You are INSUFFERABLE, and I HATE YOU.
Odessa: You brought me home years ago, picturing me cold, wet, and starving out on the street. You should be ashamed of yourself for being so selfish.
Come to think of it, this sounds like the last man in my life. We’re not that different from our pets, are we?
There is an old story about when cats talked to humans. They gave up on us and refuse to talk to us anymore. According to lore.
When KK and I are gone, I know our cats have long discussions about us and other things. Here is what I think they say just as the door slams shut and they are in the house alone:
Odessa: Yay!! Yay!! Dey gone let’s pay!
Buddy: Yeah, yeah, come on, let’s go see what’s on the kitchen counter.
Odessa: I too fat … I can’t make it up dere. You see first and don’t forget to share!
Buddy: Oh, all right, jeez.
Dammit: Don’t you kids ever learn? They can tell if you mess anything up. They’ll know it’s not me because I’m too old to jump up there. They’ll know it’s not you, Odessa, because you’re too fat.
Buddy: I can’t help it. I’ve got to know. Hold on just one second—I’ll be right back.
Dammit: Odessa, don’t let Buddy hump you anymore. It’s embarrassing and unbecoming.
Odessa: It’s otay he shootin’ banks.
Dammit: That’s not the point. It’s nasty. Here he comes … I’m just sayin.’
Buddy: Well, they didn’t leave anything out, but there’s always next time. I’m restless.
Dammit: Don’t do it.
Buddy: I have to. I have to … BITE YER NECK!!!
Dammit: GOD! SOMETIMES YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE ASSHOLE! OUCH …
Odessa: Weave hur alone! She’s ode and you pay too hard sometimes!
Buddy: Oh, yeah? Well, take THAT!
Odessa: OW! DON’T BITE MY FACE!! MEANIE MEANIE!!
Dammit: Oh, for Christ’s sake. You kids take it into the bedroom. I need my power nap.
Buddy: Come on Odessa! Let’s go push things off the computer table in KK’s room. I’ll let you punch the letter keys while I scratch on her poofy chair.
Odessa: Ooooh, she get mad at you for dat.
Buddy: Let’s go play ball in the living room, come on.
Buddy: I need to jump on you first….
Odessa: Ha, ha I beat you and you too big to fit under here!
Buddy: BUG!! BUG!! BACK DECK WINDOW! ALERT! ALERT!
Odessa: Where? Where? I get it!
Odessa: Dat no fair! I hate you!
Buddy: Let’s go chill on the couch with Dammit. She’ll never know anyway. She sleeps like a old human.
Odessa: Otay. Can I seep with you?
Buddy: Come on. But you have to let me hump you later.
Odessa: Maybe. Long as you pay robe/sash with me later.
They look so innocent whenever we come home. I know they have been up to no good. I just haven’t figured out who is doing the ‘j’s’ on my computer screen.
Originally published on The Midlife Gals