Thursday, August 05, 2004

Suddenly Last Monster
I guess enough time has past, the scars have faded, the plants have recovered...I can now finally speak of the horror.

(artist rendition of Monster)
It was a cold winter's day, and I had talked K into taking me to the pound to look at cats, I decided that Monkey needed a companion. Immediately my eye was drawn to an adorable perky black kitten, that mewed contentedly and happily, rubbing up against the bars of it's cage, pausing only to give me deep affectionate glances. Wow! How cool, what a neat cat! I thought, asking the volunteer if I could hold it. Immediately the kitten snuggled into my arms, purring and licking my hand. This was the cat for me! And so my doom was sealed.
The cat was spayed by the pound before coming home, and I carefully bundled the doped up cat back to my house, ready to meet Monkey (who was not really that thrilled but anyway) and after tucking the kitten (who I had just christened "Tiki") into it's new leopard print bed, eagerly waited for it to wake up so we could play and I could revel in it's cuteness.
Wrong, sucker.
The cat woke with the fury and screeching and growling of a tasmanian devil, green eyes in slits and the most appalling grimace on it's face. "Poor baby" I though "it must not feel good, it will be better after it sleeps more and eats some food."
HAW HAW Wrong again!
Little "Tiki" woke up in a better mood, this time jumping like a dolphin out of water to get a head pat, meowing incessantly, chasing Monkey around the house, wolfing ALL the food, knocking over the water dish,dragging it's litter willy nilly through the house, randomly attacking my feet or my FACE when sleeping, meowing for us to wake up or just stomping on us so we'd be sure to see it when it casually extended all claws and raked them across paintings, eating all plant life to a bedraggled nub, and causing Monkey to be so traumatized that she developed a white patch of fur on her face, similar to the white patch of hair I probably developed on my head under all the dye. The cat was renamed "Monster" by default, mainly from me yelling "Goddammit you little monster!" chasing the beast around the apartment as it gleefully knocked over glasses, climbed up pant legs, and pulled window blinds down. Every time I even looked at Monkey (who by this time had taken up to perching precariously on top the the DOOR to get away from the little villain) Monster ran over and demanded attention furiously. There was no toy Monkey could play with that Monster wouldn't commandeer, all affection to Monkey from me was greeted by the expectant tap tap tapping of claws on my lap by the little devil.
After eight months of this (and yes, I DO think I deserve a medal) I decided Monster had to go. My friend Katie offered to take her, excited about having a pet and deaf to my insistence that this cat was defective. "AW! Whose the widdle kitten then? You just need a GOOD mommy to love you!" she cooed as the triumphantly marched off with the cat.
Less than four days later I got a somber call. "Uh, I think I need to bring back Monster..." she said. "I'll come get here tomorrow." I said. "No...I think I'm just going to come over and drop her off NOW"...Monster had hurricaned her house and taken off a few inches of the good mommy's flesh in the process.
I finally broke down and called my mother, lying through my teeth the entire time. "No Mom, she's just energetic, I think she just needs to be an outdoor cat. You were saying you wanted another cat right? What? No, she's a good cat. She's SOOO CUTE!"
So Kenny and I jumped in the van and delivered Monster, dropped her carrier on the doorstep and fled.
The next day I got a call from my mom, who actually yelled "Goddammit Kirsten, you didn't tell me this cat was a LIMB OF SATAN!"
HOWEVER, Monster simmered down and has become my mother's constant companion. She has two cats who ignore her and a wonderful yard to play in. My mom has actually trained her to go take naps in her leopard cat bed in the afternoons...and she has trained Monster not to bite (her at anyrate). when Monster gets mad she's taken to eyeing my mother with fiercely eyes and bites on a rock, (yes, a rock) I'm sure imagining it to be a hand..or a face.
Ah, where would we be without our satanic pets.

(I think I'll go as Monster for Halloween)


This wedding stuff is making me frickin nutzo. It's all good, but there is SO much stuff to do. We picked out the music though- I'm going to walk down the aisle to a Tom Waits instrumental ("Fawn" from "Alice") and we we leave to " Put A Spell On You" by Screamin Jay Hawkins...since it may be my favorite song of all time- I never get sick of it.
I just keep reminding myself to simmer down- that if the cake sloops over or the cat attacks me and shreds my feet (Monster, the cat, will be in attendance I'm afraid.) that I'm there to marry Kenny- my all time favorite person on the earth.

Wednesday, August 04, 2004

And for this weeks icky parasite post, we turn to the Seattle Times and a fascinating article on the use of leeches and maggots in western science. Bon appetite!



"Love me for who I am..."
So- looking through the current "Best Of Seattle" issue of the Weekly, I noticed good old Peter Bagge, he of "Hate" comix fame among other things, picked the old Roq La Rue as "Best Art Gallery". But of course. Which is good- because evidently the "readers" of the Weekly picked the Seattle Art Museum as the best "gallery". Hum.



He said it, so you'd better believe it, brutha...