If you are (a) human, (b) over the age of eight and (c) equipped with a real, squishable heart, you have felt like a loser. Fortunately, Sherpa lacks (a), and so he’s spared feeling that the world is collectively flicking its finger and thumb in the shape of an L on its forehead.*
Cats arrive full of soul and song. In some cases, they come with personal theme songs. Magdalene‘s is Run the World (Girls). Thimble‘s is Happy Talk. And George‘s is most decidedly Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh.*
I’ve got bad news and great news. The robots are coming. But the robots have the potential to save the day…and the cat.
People, of which I am one, make assumptions about kittens. They say kittens are a blank slate. They say kittens have moldable personalities. People say a lot of things.
Take a moment and glance at your calendar. What does it tell you? It’s Thursday, October 16th. It’s Boss’s Day.* It’s Flea‘s birthday. It’s the 630th anniversary of Jadwiga being crowned King of Poland. It’s the eve of Wear Something Gaudy Day. But, much more than this, it’s National Feral Cat Day.
Carrie Bradshaw can keep her Manolo Blahniks. Taylor Swift can keep her Sneaky Cat Keds. We’ve got all the famous footwear we need with our Sneakers.
It’s a ceaseless source of shame that it’s easier to be patient with cats than with people. I wish this weren’t so. I hope the cats are making me a better human. But it is true.
In the immortal words of Tom Petty, “some days are diamonds; some days are rocks.” And some months are ossified turds.* September, you thieving, grieving month, we’re looking at you.
The world is a little less weird today, a little less explosive, a little less giddy and grand. We’ve lost the phenomenon known as Hootz.
Please don’t hate them because they’re beautiful. Better yet, don’t hate them at all. They don’t really hate you.