Tuesday, November 18, 2003

"Life is a sexually transmitted disease."

I didn’t think I’d get time to write but my ever thoughtful car, the Mazda-bug, decided not to start today, so subsequently I can’t go to class. Usually this would be a time to shout “yay”, but I haven’t been to my anthropology class since the 6th. I’m kinda starting to miss it.

Something spooky must be going around here, my car won’t start, our truck won’t start, the upstairs pluming is out of wack, and three light bulbs in my room went out this morning (Euh, I can already see the shadowy spots of dead ladybug bits in at least one light). I give you fair warning, soon it will be raining fire and Ohio will be swimming in locusts.

Once again back to the topic of bugs-- my cat, Cleo, caught a fly in my room the other day. My first reaction was “ew!” and to shoo her away from the poor, innocent creature but I decided against it. Let the mighty hunter stalk down her unsuspecting prey and feast upon it. She batted it around with her clawless paws, pushed it up against the wall and sniffed it.

I watched with maternal pride. My baby is all grown up, a hunter.

Then, as she was sniffing it, the injured but still live fly got stuck in her whiskers. She tried to bite at it but couldn’t reach it. She started to spin in circles trying to turn enough to reach the bug on her left. It was like watching a dog try to catch it’s tail. My pride was wavering. After some spinning the fly fell loose, back to the floor. She covered it with her paws, let it free to crawl a few inches, then pounced on it again repeating this process until the fly could barely crawl any further.

All pride I had in my cat was now gone and replaced by sheer confusion. This didn’t seem to me to be the most efficient way to hunt. Eat the damn fly already.

Finally she picked the fly up in her mouth, only to drop it and smush it with her paws again. The fly was dead. There was a moment of silence, but no words spoken since neither me nor my cat knew much about this particular fly or how it lived it’s life. Now, the creature is killed, we can feast. She sniffed at the corpse, and walked away.

Sadistic bitch.

And yet another site, useful for when you find yourself overrun with zombies and at a lost as to what you should do.

No comments: