“A cat is not a dog” (a cat lover's warning when we got Brewsky)

I finished my work in the laundry room today, a project that would have gone faster had I not been obliged to continually stop to chase Brewsky through the house with a squirt bottle while screaming profanities, stomping my feet, and goosing him with my toes (I work nude). It would have been cruel to keep him locked away in a bedroom for two weeks, but not doing so allowed him to focus his considerable willpower upon helping me work. His thought was that I needed someone to track through paint spatters, play with tools, hide screws, bat objects off sawhorses, threaten to tip over paint buckets, and be constantly underfoot. All this occasioned persistent reprimands from me that culminated in murderous rages with him running wild-eyed toward the far end of the house and me running wild-eyed in pursuit. Five minutes later, the cycle would start again. How can anyone not admire that kind of pluck in the face of a raging adversary that really could kill you if you pushed him far enough?

With Peggy away, Brewsky has taken to sleeping with me. He’s not a cat that wants to be rubbed. Oh, no, he wants a deep tissue massage, and I give him one every night while he lies on my lap in bed. He becomes so positively orgasmic that the whole affair seems a little indecent, but what can I do? Now, he not only cries for food one hour out of every four, he spends one hour every night crying for me to hurry up and go to bed so he can get his massage.

Last night, I decided to smoke hashish with my Dilaudid. I forgot that a pinhead size drop of the caramelly substance is about the right amount, so I scraped a quarter of a teaspoonful onto a bed of bud and fired it up. I immediately found myself on the verge of an out of body experience, and the Dilaudid hadn’t even come on yet. I figured that the best thing for me to do was to get into bed and pet Brewsky to steady my nerves. Well, what does Brewsky decide to do but to yowl loudly and piteously from the darkness right outside my bedroom door. I lay debating whether he sounded more like a screaming demon in a lake of fire or more like an atheist being tortured to death by the Grand Inquisitor. When it seemed as if he would never stop, I started wondering if he had swallowed a screw or something, so I went into the hallway and said to him, “Brewsky, you just better not need to go to the animal hospital tonight because you’ll be shit out of luck.”

He looked at me with alien eyes as big as saucers, and then he went on one of his insane midnight tears in which he bounds through rooms, slides across furniture, and bounces off walls. So, there I am, not only having been disappointed in my desire to quietly pet my darling kitty in order to find an island of sanity within a brain that was threatening to explode across the universe like a supernova, I was being treated to god-knows-what kind of insanity on the part of the very creature I had looked to for comfort. I had heard of cats doing such things, but never having been a cat person, I hadn’t seen it until we got Brewsky, and it still unnerves me. It’s as if every veneer of tameness has been ripped away from a raging beast that I no longer recognize.

Brewsky's werecat performance was REALLY not what I needed last night, but it was sure what I got. When he finally succeeded in running his fit out, he jumped into my lap as I sat reading—I didn’t get far with that—and lay on his back waiting for his massage. I started laughing so hard over his Jekyll and Hyde performance that I was bouncing him up and down with my belly. He finally got up and looked at me dumfounded, as if to ask whether I had lost my mind. The more he stared, the harder I laughed until he finally jumped to the floor and stalked from the room, his tail twitching angrily.

Much of the time, I don’t feel that I have a clue what goes on inside a cat’s head, and other times Brewsky and I will be staring into one another’s eyes, and I’ll suddenly feel deeply connected to this little creature that I will never be able to tame. I don’t think I could ever experience the rapport with a cat that I have with many a dog, but I think that Brewsky is probably as good as it gets, cat-wise, because he has it figured out that my fits are 99% bluff. Otherwise, he would be neurotic as hell by now—like most cats of my acquaintance.

28 comments:

Helen said...

If ever I am in need of a good laugh, I will simply return to read this post!!!!

The Bipolar Diva said...

I absolutely loved this! You made me laugh so hard and I really needed it! Love you!

The Tusk said...

All sounds like a pretty normal evening with a good friend, cat at home.

rhymeswithplague said...

And an airplane is not a bicycle.

Punk Chopsticks said...

LMAO!!! This post was hilarious, you never fail to make me laugh xD

I've just saved a kitten (whom we've aptly christened Einstein, since she's one of the dumbest kittens I know. Dumb but sweet)and can't help but wonder if this is what in store for our poor household

CreekHiker / HollysFolly said...

This had me rolling with laughter! Good one Snow!

middle child said...

C'mon! Think. Thaaaat's right. Catnip!

Kerry said...

It's hard not to picture you, stark naked, stampeding a crazy cat past a deaf dog, in an empty house. You OK? I think you're probably fine, though. Makes me miss our damn cat.

The Elephant's Child said...

He was unhappy because you didn't share the hash. We had a cat who stole quite a large block, ate it, went completely feral for half an hour (bouncing off the ceiling type feral), climbed onto the bed, purred loudly and crashed out - for two days. She had a serious case of the munchies when she finally surfaced again. In the interim if you woke her, she purred and nodded straight off again.
Really happy that you finished the laundry. Are you happy with it?

The Blog Fodder said...

A wonderful laugh first thing this morning. thanks so much. Cats and women - no one really understands what goes on inside their heads.
Glad the laundry room is finished. Next project?

Marion said...

Snow, your kitty had a contact high and was trippin'. LOL! He's a gorgeous feline.

I have six cats and each one has a distinct personality. One of them, Catfish, is very doggish and sleeps with our Golden Retriever and tries to eat the dog food every morning. He has serious identity issues. Another cat, Garfield, has the softest fur on earth...because all the other cats daily groom him! It's strange because they fight at night, but love during the day. You're fortunate to have such a wonderful cat. Thanks for the great laugh this morning. I needed it. xo

All Consuming said...

Damn but that cat is good for you. And I'm a 'dog' person.

“Brewsky, you just better not need to go to the animal hospital tonight because you’ll be shit out of luck.” ...Hahahaha, you kill me, always making me smile. xxx

That corgi :) said...

Enjoyed reading about Brewsky; he's like having a little kid under your foot when you are trying to get any work done. I've never owned a cat, I always thought they would be aloof and not quite interacting as much with their humans, but glad that it sounds he is great company for you!

betty

Charles Gramlich said...

Is it live? Or is it hashish? Sorry, couldn't resist. Brewsky sounds like cat's cat.

Sissy said...

How you do make me laugh! Working naked certainly saves damage to clothing.

No cats here anymore; I wish, but certain one would expire quickly under the four dogs' attentive grooming.

I'm beginning to yearn being your best friend that comes begging for a good high. My pain gets NO remedies of any type. Doctors!!! I think they have worsened matters with all their testing machines.


Well, tell us about the pleasure wife got when she spied the laundry room surprise.

I love reading your "adventures" if they can be so-called but emphathize greatly. That doesn't help YOU though, does it?

Myrna R. said...

Okay, so now my husband is sooo curious. He wonders what the hell is so funny.

Thanks for the laugh.

Mad Mind said...

This is why cats and I would never get along. And my dad loves them. Cats can just be weird. Sorry Brewsky!

Robin said...

Dear Brewsky,
O Wise, Wonderful, Intuitive, Adorable Brewsky!!! You have got your *Daddy's* number!!!! After all *Snow* has been through fom a child to a youth to a young man to a *mature* man...he FINALLY has met his match!!! A-ha-ha!

Every time I re-read this post and picture you in your *Were-Cat* stage...then pouncing up on Snow's lap - demanding your *deep-massage*, I just (forgive me) - HOWL!!!!!

I love you Brewsky! When your *Dad and Mum* brought you home....and I saw that first photo, I KNEW you were a special one!

Happy Autumn! And.....bwwwwhaaaha....Happy Halloween!

Love,

♥ Robin ♥

p.s. Tell Snowbrush, Peggy and Blue I send my love to them too!!!

kj said...

you, snow, are in love. there is no doubt

i have never known a handyman carpenter fix it guy to work in the nude. it sounds dangerous.

love
kj

Lorraina said...

LOL, you made me laugh but i've gotta tell you my 16 yr old cat has gotten into that kind of frenzy and has bitten me, twice! I sort of think it was some kind of sexual thing, something wild and crazy happened when i petted him too much and he couldn't handle his emotions or something.Both times i knew he was going to attack my face so i backed off and the little bugger got me on the arm and once on the hand.Otherwise i love him to death and completely trust him to sleep on my arm every night.

Chrisy said...

You lucky ducky...what a character you have there in Brewsky...he was obviously worried about you last night, that's why he was acting so weird...
Love your writing Snowbrush...

Ed Pilolla said...

freaking hysterical. demon roar. hashish, it's been awhile. not a bad idea, sir:)

Beau's Mom said...

Joe and I drove 900 miles this week with Beau on my lap, turned backwards so that he could stare me eye-to-eye. Dogs are pack animals and, as a pack, he needed constant reassurance that his pack was present and accounted for.

He idolizes me. I am his all. And, as such, I feel tremendous responsibility for his happiness and safety.

Hey, if I were God. . . .

Well, if I made you, I'd feel responsible for your welfare.

But cats bond differently since they're not pack animals. But there's still love - "cat" style. Plus, each of them have different personalities.

Vagabonde said...

Your cat sounds like quite a character. I love cats and enjoy watching them. Thanks for coming to my blog and commenting. When we go to Tennessee I do the driving and since I don’t like to drive on the freeway in Chattanooga we go through the Chattahoochee National Forest – Trenton is about halfway so we stop there for lunch. It’s a neat little town and seems quite busy after having gone through the forest. I’ll think about you next time we drive through there. When we came back, last Monday, we drove to the next town Villanow then I saw the sign “Scenic Georgia Byways” and since it was not late we drove on it. I’ll make a post on it next as I took some pretty pictures of the area.

The Tusk said...

I recommend Puss and Boots in 3D, you will the interaction of cat and human.

Zuzana said...

I truly enjoyed this story. Cats are crazy and cat owners are even more crazy. Me included. I prefer to call it being *original*. And that is what I say to my man when he calls us crazy.;)
Hope you survived your weeks without Peggy.;))
xoxo

Marion said...

This post is hilarious. I had a cat that looked just like Brewsky, so much so they could be brothers. He did the kind of thing you describe in his youth...it was beyond funny.

You've got the descriptions down pat, right to the twitching, angry tail. I love that he loves the deep tissue massage...that'll help with his werecat performance! xx

KleinsteMotte said...

Ah now the cat's just reflecting it's master! Your writing makes me smile. The imagery is so good!!!