The Life and Times of Florence Knitingale

Sunday, March 04, 2007

per·sist·ent /pərˈsɪstənt - adjective

1. persisting, esp. in spite of opposition, obstacles, discouragement, etc.; persevering: a most annoyingly persistent young man.
2. lasting or enduring tenaciously: the persistent aroma of verbena; a persistent cough.
3. constantly repeated; continued: persistent noise.
4. Ed

Ed is possessed of the ability to defy natural law. I know this, because most of the time he is a soft, 16 pound cat with velvety feet. At other times (such as 3:00 this morning) he is able to stand on my breasts with approximately 20 pounds of weight in each toe, and to turn each of those toes into something that feels much like a large knuckle. Oh, and he suddenly has 12 of them....per foot. He also has the ability, if pushed towards the edge of the bed, to cling to it sideways in defiance of gravity or, if he actually does hurtle floorwards, to bounce back like a hairy superball on steroids. With knuckles for all 48 of his toes (didn't know superballs had toes, didja?).

I love my cats.

I likewise love my husband who can sleep through just about anything but, even better, is possessed of the magical ability to return to sleep, even after having an eleventy pound ball of knuckles standing on any or all of his body parts. I long for that kind of knuckle assault recovery.

It is for the above reasons that my brain is somewhat....mushy today and that all cleverness and humor is outside in the garage with knuckle boy. Although, in the "insult to injury" department, Ed has responded to my kindness in getting up all bleary and bruised to feed him breakfast by going across the street to the neighbors house (they love Ed) to eat their superior tasting moles while my own moles are busily plowing up the backyard to build a superhighway, and possibly a little theme park. I'm pretty sure I saw one of them carrying in a ferris wheel.

All of this may go to explain the fact that as I was cutting and pasting the above definitions, I found myself working quickly so that I could get the stuff pasted in....before the computer forgot it. Seriously--I copied it to the clipboard, logged into Blogger, and actually thought "Gee, I'd better not take time to read these new comments....I want to get the definitions in there while the computer remembers them." Apparently, projection is on the agenda today. That is, my mind has been pureed and is in danger of pouring out of my head so I assume that ALL brains have suffered the same fate. Mind you, the computer doesn't have breasts so it's unlikely Ed can work his same magic on it.

Miss, meanwhile, is sitting next to the computer, staring at me with lovestruck eyes and purring mightily. She spent the night in the living room chair and has yet to play "let's drive the human apeshit" in the wee hours so, at the moment, she is the superior cat. Mind you, I did open one of the french doors that open onto the deck yesterday in order to let her in....and she stayed where she was, meowing frantically at the other french door--the one that was still closed. I should point out that these two doors are a set, a pair--they are side by side and my furry little Einstein still couldn't seem to work out the mystery of getting up, walking a step to her left, and coming in through the open one.

In the book version of "The Princess Bride", it is made clear that Buttercup is no mental giant. At one point, Westley turns to her and says gently "You never were the brightest, were you Buttercup?" And that phrase came to mind as I stood with the door open watching Miss cry sadly at the closed one.

Nevertheless, Miss has left my breasts unmolested as I sleep and has showed her appreciation for her breakfast by purring and generally kissing up to me, so she is a superior creature. What can I say?--I'm a simple being.

Due to my current sleep-deprived, breast-knuckled state (that is to say, due to my being only marginally brighter than Miss today), it would be unwise for me to attempt to study or, worse, to attempt to manipulate string and sticks into anything at all other than a largish knot. And yet, since wisdom is clearly not on the menu for me today, I will be doing precisely those things. I will be studying for a Chemistry exam tomorrow, with the sure and certain knowledge that my instructor will not accept Ed as an excuse for lackluster performance, and I will be knitting because I am a dork and I apparently love the smell of repeatedly unravelled sock yarn in the morning.

Did I mention how much I love my cats? Anyone want one?

7 Comments:

  • At 11:24 AM, Anonymous angie Cox said…

    I'll take Miss or Gracie anytime ...if it rained when I was a kid Treacle ( our childhood cat) would try the front door cos it was obviously only raining outside the back door ..ahem . How do men do that stuff , Jeff goes off like a light switch and if woken goes back off straight away . I have to get up 3x to pee at night and I have to wear ear-plugs or I'd get no sleep at all.

     
  • At 1:19 PM, Blogger Marianne said…

    Ahem, er.......I, uh, wouldn't mind so much trading out Smooch for Miss, then maybe Smooch and Ed could go off and find some other kind of mischief, but then...well...I'm guessing that plan could backfire plenty and you'd be giving me a ticket for that boat, you know the one, it goes up that proverbial creek, sans paddles...so never mind.

    I am so with you, I think Ed and Smooch must email each other at night, or better yet, right around 3:30 (sometimes earlier,eh?) to get their 'kitty watches' in sync...
    this has been going on far too long, Bobby suggested the dryer as her bed of choice at night. (bad Bobby).

     
  • At 2:32 PM, Blogger Kitty Mommy said…

    Yeah, I have never figured out the whole cats-defying-physics thing. Kitten Chai and Kitty Man have always been close to the same weight, yet Chai walks across you and you aren't even sure she is there, she is so dainty. Kitty Man, on the other hand, leaves deep footprints on me, on the mattress, on the box spring, and even on the carpet six inches below the box spring. Go figure!

     
  • At 12:38 AM, Blogger Jo said…

    Willow has taken to sneaking around downstairs while we sleep, she likes to have the house to herself while its toddler free, so we don't have any weird antics until she decides she wants to sleep on my head again!

     
  • At 9:33 AM, Blogger beckie said…

    Oh no..I will be getting a kitty when I move in June..I better train it to jump all over hubby and not on me :)

     
  • At 12:12 PM, Blogger knottykitty said…

    I'm a little over my cat quota at the moment, so I can't help you out in taking any off your hands. However, I can empathize with the bruised boobies! Mini (a not-so-mini 14 pounds of cat meat, as you have seen) loves to drill his pointy paws into my chest a half hour or more before the alarm, using them to prop himself as he slides down to completely squish me flat!! :) Can't wait to meet your lovely, perfectly-behaved children! ;) deb

     
  • At 12:19 PM, Anonymous marti said…

    not really. we are busy mopping up after gianormous fur balls around here. yuck.

     

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