2004/07/03
24 Hours of Oddity
A lot of you know we have a ton of cats and two new dogs. Right now the score is: Cats 6 - Dogs 2. Our cats come and go as they please, spending a good part of their days outside. Every so often one will take off for a couple of days and we'll worry, but they almost always come back and we feel silly about it afterward.
BBs (pronounced "bee-bees," and no, I didn't name him) was rather miffed when we got the pups and disappeared for a while then lived in the basement, where the dogs don't go, for a few weeks before slowly starting to hang out in the main household again.
Last night BBs did something he hasn't done since we got the dogs. He came to bed with us. With the dogs. And he relaxed. He didn't hiss or scratch at them like he normally would if they are in his space, he just curled up beside Jaq and howled over and over again (which he does regularly).
We were pretty shocked, seeing as he's one of the cats that hates the dogs the most. I thought maybe we were going to have an earthquake, because they say animals act weird when they sense something.
About ten minutes later we figured out what he wanted. He demonstrated for us.
First he sprang up and landed on top of Bella (the dog), then he grabbed her scruff with his teeth. Then he attempted to make kippies. Or puppens. Or whatever you'd get if you crossed a dog and a cat.
HUH? Our cat's humping our dog! He's fixed, she's nowhere near old enough to be in heat, but... our cat's humping our dog! HUH?
Through it all, Bella just stayed very, very still. I think she was scared to move.
After our "is he doing what it looks like he's doing?" shock wore off, I shooed him away from her and he left the room, presumably to take a cold shower. Bella curled up close to Jaq and shivered, afraid, for the rest of the night.
Laughing, Jaq said, "You're going to blog about this, aren't you?"
"Cross-species sex? Are you kidding? Of course I'm going to blog about this!"
Later, trying to drift off, but waking myself repeatedly by laughing out loud, I said, "Uh... but it's only one event. I need a collection of oddities or my entry will be too short."
"Don't worry, Hon. I'm sure something else strange will happen to you."
Why does everybody always say that?
Cut to the following afternoon (today). Something strange happened to me. Jaq has an amazing gift for prediction.
I'm walking back from the store, having just bought a pouch of tobacco and some tubes, when a truck pulls up beside me and stops. I glance up and see an out-of-towner. The guy leans out his window and says, "Are you from around here?"
I put on my best friendly face, the one I use for tourists who might spend money in our little depressed community, and say "I sure am! What can I do for you?" I expect he wants directions to a campground or beach or something. They all want that.
He says, not too clearly, "You look like a pusmuka to me."
"I look like a what?"
He raises his voice. "You look like a pot smoker to me."
OH! He wants to score. Naturally, when you want to score you drive around looking for the scruffiest, long-haired, unshaven, cut-offs-wearing hippie you can spot, and ask him where the weed is. I am all of those things, except I don't smoke the stuff. (I had a beer three months ago, though.)
Naturally, after the fact, a million possibly entertaining responses come to mind.
- "So do you." and then just stare at him
- "You look like you're under arrest to me."
- "No, I'm the crack guy. The pot guy lives down there."
- "I used to be, but then I found God. Can we talk for a bit?"
- "Everyone in this damned town looks like this. Why single me out?"
Instead I just say, "Nope. Not me."
He says okay, thanks, then drives off.
I could have directed him to the house of the biggest dealer in town, which I just happened to be standing half a block from, but that guy gets enough business and I don't particularly want to encourage it, legal or not.
I got home and told Jaq. She was pissed that anyone would pre-judge me like that. But I DO look like a pot-head. It's a natural assumption if you're hoping to buy. If you looked like a cross between David Koresh, Jim Morrison and Jesus, you'd get that same sort of thing all the time, too.
Oh well. [shrug]
BBs (pronounced "bee-bees," and no, I didn't name him) was rather miffed when we got the pups and disappeared for a while then lived in the basement, where the dogs don't go, for a few weeks before slowly starting to hang out in the main household again.
Last night BBs did something he hasn't done since we got the dogs. He came to bed with us. With the dogs. And he relaxed. He didn't hiss or scratch at them like he normally would if they are in his space, he just curled up beside Jaq and howled over and over again (which he does regularly).
We were pretty shocked, seeing as he's one of the cats that hates the dogs the most. I thought maybe we were going to have an earthquake, because they say animals act weird when they sense something.
About ten minutes later we figured out what he wanted. He demonstrated for us.
First he sprang up and landed on top of Bella (the dog), then he grabbed her scruff with his teeth. Then he attempted to make kippies. Or puppens. Or whatever you'd get if you crossed a dog and a cat.
HUH? Our cat's humping our dog! He's fixed, she's nowhere near old enough to be in heat, but... our cat's humping our dog! HUH?
Through it all, Bella just stayed very, very still. I think she was scared to move.
After our "is he doing what it looks like he's doing?" shock wore off, I shooed him away from her and he left the room, presumably to take a cold shower. Bella curled up close to Jaq and shivered, afraid, for the rest of the night.
Laughing, Jaq said, "You're going to blog about this, aren't you?"
"Cross-species sex? Are you kidding? Of course I'm going to blog about this!"
Later, trying to drift off, but waking myself repeatedly by laughing out loud, I said, "Uh... but it's only one event. I need a collection of oddities or my entry will be too short."
"Don't worry, Hon. I'm sure something else strange will happen to you."
Why does everybody always say that?
Cut to the following afternoon (today). Something strange happened to me. Jaq has an amazing gift for prediction.
I'm walking back from the store, having just bought a pouch of tobacco and some tubes, when a truck pulls up beside me and stops. I glance up and see an out-of-towner. The guy leans out his window and says, "Are you from around here?"
I put on my best friendly face, the one I use for tourists who might spend money in our little depressed community, and say "I sure am! What can I do for you?" I expect he wants directions to a campground or beach or something. They all want that.
He says, not too clearly, "You look like a pusmuka to me."
"I look like a what?"
He raises his voice. "You look like a pot smoker to me."
OH! He wants to score. Naturally, when you want to score you drive around looking for the scruffiest, long-haired, unshaven, cut-offs-wearing hippie you can spot, and ask him where the weed is. I am all of those things, except I don't smoke the stuff. (I had a beer three months ago, though.)
Naturally, after the fact, a million possibly entertaining responses come to mind.
- "So do you." and then just stare at him
- "You look like you're under arrest to me."
- "No, I'm the crack guy. The pot guy lives down there."
- "I used to be, but then I found God. Can we talk for a bit?"
- "Everyone in this damned town looks like this. Why single me out?"
Instead I just say, "Nope. Not me."
He says okay, thanks, then drives off.
I could have directed him to the house of the biggest dealer in town, which I just happened to be standing half a block from, but that guy gets enough business and I don't particularly want to encourage it, legal or not.
I got home and told Jaq. She was pissed that anyone would pre-judge me like that. But I DO look like a pot-head. It's a natural assumption if you're hoping to buy. If you looked like a cross between David Koresh, Jim Morrison and Jesus, you'd get that same sort of thing all the time, too.
Oh well. [shrug]
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