Some things seem strange, mysterious even, for many years.

Then, in a flash of insight, they click into place. Meet Mr. Puzzle Piece himself, none other than Oliver.

Many a kitten forms an obsessive attachment to a particular toy: Julius and his octopus, Donny and his monkey, every kitten and his Tashi. Similarly, many a human bean kidlet forms an obsessive attachment to a certain movie, begging to watch it over and over and over again.

For most kids, the movie of mania is something…well, kiddy. You know: Care Bears, My Little Pony, Up, Syriana.

Then there was me. As a wee lass of twenty-six eleven or so, I was obsessed with seeing a certain movie over and over and over again. My youthful favorite?
Promise not to laugh? Can’t do that? OK, promise not to throw rotten vegetables?

OK. It was the 1968 musical Oliver!
Yeah…just when you think you’ve hit the outer reaches of my oddness, I go and open up a whole basement of peculiar.

Anyway, for years this mystified (and cracked up) my family. But today, we have our long-awaited, utterly satisfying explanation. It was an anticipatory obsession. I just couldn’t wait to meet the real Oliver.

Hopefully today’s Gratuitous Cat Photos explain why. Despite his chronic eye issues and his chronic anxieties around humans, this Oliver is no orphan. As he continues learning to trust us, he has no excuse for asking, “where is love?” (Nor does he have any excuse for asking, “Is it underneath the willow tree that I’ve been dreaming of?” But I digress.)

Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m going to go consider myself part of the furniture in Oliver’s Suite C.

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