Cat Fiction

I was browsing through the new releases at the library and by chance I ran across something that seemed peculiar: Cat fiction. Ok, I know genre fiction can be pretty odd in and of itself, but I never imagined that there was such a beast as cat murder mysteries. What was even more disturbing was that I ended up seeing two or three more books right after I had noticed the first one... and that

Now let me say that I am a cat person -- I generally enjoy them (though that doesn't make me anti-dog) but I don't have 5 cats running around like some people I know and the whole LOLcats phenomenon nauseates me. Generally I figure that the people who spend their days looking at pictures of cats with lame captions simply have no prospects of ever having sex, so what else are they going to do, right?

Never had I imagined that one would think to combine murder-mystery fiction with cats. I just never knew the crazy cat demographic was that strong. I guess I simply underestimated this insane world of ours. If there's a market for cat fiction and clown porn, there's really a market for just about anything. I guess deep down, its a life affirming discovery because if people are willing to shell out some coin for stuff like that, somewhere there's got to be some major coin out there for me.

Your Bitch Loves Cock!

Ah, penis shaped dog biscuits. The people at Del Monte are BRILLIANT.

(Via Dyanna at Hoork.)

Aftermath

I can't say I'm too terribly surprised. I went for another run today, taking a route by the park and on a big orange sign there was a picture of cat's cute mug staring back at me. Dutifully, I called the phone number and found out the back story -- Tuesday he had followed his kids to school -- another school a bit away -- and wouldn't leave. So school officials took him and drove him to the school by my house and left him in the park. And so far from home he stayed all day and into the night until he found the one person he knew would take good care of him and who would also love him enough to make sure he found his way back to his other family. He knew what he was doing.

There might be some who say that all my talk about a friend reincarnated finding his way home was a little foolish. It was just a lost kitten that looked like my old cat and needed someone to take care of him. Once I took him home I spoke to the woman's fiancee -- "I'm so glad to have Trouble back." "Trouble? His name is Trouble?" That was Stinky's given name when I adopted him... I ended up changing it to his middle name. So while my heart is broken once again, I know my old friend knew he could always trust me to do what is right.

Reincatnation

After a week without a blog entry, Alexander asked me if I had decided to let the blog die. Not so, I assured him. Just had some other stuff going on. For those of you who have been following along, it was just last Halloween when I had to say goodbye to my good friend, Stinky. I won't lie to you -- It hurt bad and it really took a while for me to finally recover. I don't care if its a cat or a person -- I don't give my heart away easily and I never really stop loving someone.

Jump forward about a year -- I still have three pictures of Stinky at my desk, I still find myself talking to him. Its not a sad thing, really. I just enjoy talking to him, letting him know that he's still on my mind. A neighbor's cat had adopted me, dropping by for a little attention now and then. Its all the kitty love without the responsibility. I really liked that. Definitely my speed at the moment... or so I thought.

I went out for a late night run through the neighborhood a few nights ago. On my way back, I went by the park that's near our house. (And for my readers with dirty minds: No, its not that kind of park.) I stopped to toss away my empty water bottle when this striped cat appeared next to me. Not quite out of his kittenhood, he seemed awfully friendly. I gave him a quick pat on the head before telling him to head back home to his family. I turned and made my way back but he followed right along side me... all the way home.

Yes, its cliche -- "Look what followed me home!" I keep expecting him to disappear again to wherever he came from, though he shows no inclination to leave. I haven't adopted him, as I don't really consider him mine to adopt -- it seems more like he's adopted me. At this point, I think I'm just going to call him Cat. "Poor old Cat. Poor slob. Poor slob without a name. The way I see it I don't have the right to give him one. We don't belong to each other. We just took up by the river one day."

Honestly, I wasn't looking for another cat. I was happy having a surrogate cat, I didn't really feel like it was time to put my heart out there again... I can't shake the sense that some way, some how my friend had made his way home again, even if it took a year and a different body. I guess that's how life works sometimes -- we may not think our hearts are ready to love again just quite yet, but when its time, its time.

Get Me My Nerve Pills!

A new article in the LA Times details the newest pet trend... Pet Prozac! Yes, at first it sounds like a joke, but I suppose there are situations where it makes sense.
I suppose given the choice of putting an animal to sleep or giving it some Prozac and allowing it to have a more normal life, hey, its not so crazy. Still, I'm just waiting for the day when they come out with the pet Viagra commercials.