That's Just Not the Way I Roll....

I think my cat wants to have a homosexual relationship with me.

I blame myself, partly. I saw the signs, but did nothing. I expected this would just go away, but it hasn't. It's gotten worse and I'm afraid he's just going to snap one day and kill us all in some weird bi-species love-triangle murder-suicide.

(**note: I have now used up my quota of hyphens. The remainder of this post will be hyphen-free).


I mean, look at that picture: does that pose say "Come on and see me sometime, sailor..." to you or what?

Now look, I'm not opposed to alternative lifestyles. Matter of fact, I'm very supportive of gay marriage -- after all, why should just heteros suffer the horrors of marriage? But it's just not for me. Well, unless I go to prison or get shipwrecked with an NFL football team or something. Or join the British navy. Then I'll reassess. But for now, no. Not my bag.

And I haven't had a cross species relationship, well, in ages. And really, I was a little drunk, and I really needed the money.

But I kid, I'm a kidder.

I didn't need the money...

Anyway.

Yes, where were we? Oh yes, the cat. Every morning he wakes me up at the crack of dawn. I used to think it was because some idiot around here (well, that's me) had forgotten to feed him the night before and he was hungry. But I've become very good about feeding him and he just comes in and wakes me up anyway.

So I'll go downstairs and try to use the extra hour or so productively, hopping on the computer and reading blogs doing extra things for work.

And he'll come over and pester me to pay attention to him. Okay, nothing too out of the ordinary yet. I mean, he's a little dog-like, but from what we understand, his breed (Maine Coon) are attention hogs.

He'll sit there and look at me and rub his head on my leg (well, actually it's a little more like a head-butt) (damn. There's another hyphen. That's going to cost me...)

He rubs his head on me, and I am well trained to go to the bathroom and turn on the water so he can have a drink.

Well, this morning I was feeling particularly chipper and thought I'd scratch his back a little. Now this is what this ginormous fat cat looks like drinking from the sink:


Note the tail is sticking up.

So, I'm scratching his back, looking out the bathroom window at the backyard (again Mother-frickin-nature dumps a foot of rain on us and freezes it overnight. That's going to be a party driving in, let me tell you..). After a minute or so of this I look down and note his tail is curled up around my arm, so I'm getting a full bore-view of cat ass. Delightful.

Then I notice the cat ass is... is.... oh my, this is too horrible to write, but I will for you, faithful reader: the cat ass is pulsating. It's rhythmically... pulsating... is the only word for it. And he's purring... the most gravelly, lustful, needful purring I've ever heard from him.

And then he stops drinking and turns his head to look at me.

And, I swear... He winked.

I just feel so dirty...