World War Meow

Those cat-worshipping Ancient Egyptians were duped, man. I have proof that cats are not “furry people” -- as some felineophiles would claim -- but rather simple, animalistic meat with pea brains driven by pure instinct formed during the Neolithic period (you know, back when cats wore Mastadon pelts and wielded wooden clubs and drove rock cars by furiously paddling their tiny feet).

Remember our trip to the vet last Wednesday? And remember that it was LAST WEDNESDAY? Meaning FIVE WHOLE DAYS ago? Well its been five whole days of relentless feline insanity here at Casa De Gaughran-Perez -- an unending carnival of multi-cat-on-cat growling, hissing, spitting, yowling and general surliness. Now is the late summer of our kitty discontent. sigh.

Those of you with cats know what's going on here, and that its all about scent. Wallace went to the vet. Wallace was touched by the vet and vet-smelling things. Wallace returned home, and though still Wallace, was now Not Wallace Scented. The other cats see Wallace, and though he's still the exact same Wallace they've lived with for 7 or more years, they no longer recognize him as Wallace. Because he smells different.

Stupid cats.

And what's worse is that somehow this olfactory-induced amnesia is contagious: now in addition to not recognizing Wallace as Wallace, Zelda and Maxine don't seem to recognize one another either. Which, in my humble opinion, just seems like overkill and melodrama, but whatevs. Let them have their little Kitty Cat Melrose Place -- I'm staying out of it.

And all of this wouldn't be so bad if they kept their epic battles to the daylight hours. BUT NOOOOO. Nighttime, it seems, is the right time for kitty Fight Club to their way of thinking, with the preferred location for their skirmishes being RIGHT UNDER OUR FUCKING BED. Where I engage in important restful and regenerative sleeping-type activities. Or, umm, used to. [weeps]

Stupid, stupid cats.

Yes, I know this will pass. I know in time they'll catch a scent-laden clue, and remember each other, and kitty peace will once again reign. But in the meantime, I'll be sleeping on the couch downstairs. And quietly weeping. And cursing all of Catdom under my breath. Stupid cats.