As I was also just saying, cats don't wear bras. Those words actually came out of my mouth a few minutes ago. I was talking to a cat at the time, though, so it's not quite as well, she's finally lost it as it might sound.
Although some people might think that the whole talking to a cat thing in the first place qualifies on its own. Those people probably haven't owned cats. At least, I'd assume.
Penny, you see, was apparently in the mood for conversation as I was throwing out a dead bra (dead as in broken underwire, for those of you who have never killed a bra), so I let her know that I was just throwing out a dead bra.
She said maow.
I told her there was no point in keeping it, since it wasn't any good with a busted wire.
She said maow.
I told her it was ok since I'd actually got a fair amount of wear out of the bra before it died.
She said maaaow.
So I asked her if she wanted it.
She said maow.
That's when I told her that cats don't wear bras. She said maow, and I told her I didn't know how she was possibly going to use it since a) it was dead, and b) she's a cat.
She said maow.
You might have gathered by now that Penny likes to talk. You might have also gathered that I have no problem entering into a nonsensical conversation with a cat.
I mean, if you really look at it, it's the only kind of conversation you can have with a cat. Oh, you can understand each other's tone and body language, sure, but talking to a cat is always going to be a bit silly. I obviously don't mind it, because I do it anyway.
I also call cats names. Not just nicknames -- we've covered that before in the blather -- but insulting names. Hello, Max. Are you a pain in the arse? Why, sure you are! And incidentally, he certainly was last night. And is being one currently. I don't call him a pain in the arse just out of the blue, you know.
I guess I just don't buy into the school of thought that animals always know what words mean. Yes, they know some. These cats definitely know their names. Max knows outside and go to bed. Penny the Walking Stomach probably recognises more food terms than we realise. But as for everyday conversation? Say what you want to a cat, I figure. Just say it nicely. And for anyone who thinks that calling Max a pain in the arse is somehow cruel, I just have to say... really? He hears pain in the arse enough that he probably thinks it's a term of endearment.
The way I see it, having a stupid conversation with a cat is good for both parties. The cat (even if it's being called names, yes), gets attention, and the human gets stupid out of her system for a while.
Maybe we should all talk to cats.
The world could use a lot less stupid, really.
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