Scent of a Meow

This week’s post is a guest post by someone who is totally not me. They may sound exactly like me, but they are not me. We just went to all the same schools with all the same teachers throughout. You may meet them in person and they look exactly like me, but that’s just a case of ‘when you live with somebody long enough, you start to resemble them’.


Last weekend, I watched Scent of a Woman for the first time. It is the heart-warming tale of a student who takes a job as the assistant to a blind, retired Lieutenant Colonel while his family is away on Thanksgiving weekend. The man takes the student with him on a trip where he plans to commit suicide. I won’t get into details, but the movie was so good that it earned Al Pacino the Oscar for Best Actor.

Being the critic on serious social matters that I am, I decided to focus on a cat that was in only two scenes of the entire movie. That cat got me thinking about the one I live with. Before you say anything, know that it was either a post about cats or fifty reasons why “hoo-ah!” is my new catch phrase.

Hoo-ah!
Hoo-ah!

I refer to it as the cat I live with, because I don’t know who the owner is. I don’t even know if it has an owner. It just showed up one day and never left, probably as an allegory for what my sister’s mother-in-law will do in the future. This cat doesn’t even have a name, although I will occasionally refer to it as Thanos because it sits around all day doing nothing but it is as evil as they come, just like all cats.

Before I continue, I want to make it clear that the cat is female and Thanos is a male name, but here we believe in equality, and that gender really doesn’t matter in some situations.

But never quote me on that. Ever.
But never quote me on that. Ever.

This cat, like I said, does a whole lot of nothing around the house. It just walks around and falls asleep anywhere it pleases. It doesn’t even go for soft surfaces exclusively, much like this cat here that actually has two names. Sometimes it sleeps on the parts of the floor where the carpet doesn’t cover, sometimes it’s the branches of a dry tree. One time I locked it inside the fridge to see what it would do, and after minutes of waiting, I opened the fridge and found it asleep. Calm down, PETA and all other animal rights activists – there hadn’t been power in the house for hours that day, so the fridge was sufficiently warm. It’s also why I was tossing cats into fridges instead of watching movies all day like I should have been.

I cannot stress enough how much this cat just falls asleep anywhere. Sometimes I’ll lie down on the couch and this thing will walk in. It’ll jump onto the couch and then on me. It starts walking all over my chest, sometimes marching on one spot, sometimes turning around on one spot. Then it decides to become more irritating and starts prodding my neck with its paws which are only ever cold at that time for some reason. Maybe it’s trying to give me bronchitis or some other respiratory disease. Maybe it’s checking for a pulse to know just how to finish me with one blow should I ever deny it milk. All I know is that it’s up to no good. I believe this because it does this only to me, and only when everybody else is asleep. Maybe it’s not too happy with the fact that I’ve finally seen beyond the fur and discovered its true wickedness.

Because I fear for my life, sometimes I’d take it outside and leave it there to mingle with all the other cats in the neighborhood. But a few minutes later, I’d see it right back in the house. This went on for days, and my theories on how it could get back into the house ranged from witchcraft teleportation to Star Trek teleportation. After a long time of mental unrest and investigation, I found out that the cat does this thing where it moves a short distance from the house then runs fast and knocks the kitchen window open. This cat is either a genius that hates socializing with other cats or a genius that’s more determined to kill me at night than I thought.

Sometimes I’ll try to make friends with Thanos so I won’t have to live in fear. I’ll try to play with it like I see so many cat owners do on the Internet. But Thanos does not seem to grasp the concept of fun. Thanos stares at balls of yarn, doesn’t dart after light spots or chase stuff that’s dragged on the ground. So I’ll try the ultimate move. The one that every cat owner who has watched The Lion king has tried at least once in their lives. Don’t lie. But even then, Thanos doesn’t co-operate.

Nants ingonya-STOP PEEING ON MY FACE!
Nants ingo-STOP PEEING ON MY FACE!

Thanos gets on my nerves a lot. Every time it finds me typing on my laptop, it almost always makes a point of walking all over my keyboard. I place the cat on the floor and continue my typing, but it always gets right back onto the keyboard, forcing me to try and ask it nicely to go away. Naturally, it doesn’t listen because Lucifer sent it to test my patience. You may think that it doesn’t leave because it can’t understand me, but I know it does. It does everything my mother tells it to. If she tells it to get off the table, it meows a futile protest but gets down immediately. Maybe they have their own secret language. This wouldn’t surprise me, as my mother knows a few languages and has the habit of switching in the middle of a conversation.

Mother: Please get me a drink.

Me: Be specific. What kind?

Mother: Eau.

Me: I didn’t catch that.

Mother: Amanzi.

Me: What?

Mother: воды.

Me: I don’t speak German.

Mother: [getting angry] Metsi!

Me: English!

Mother: পানি

Me: What language is that? Is that French?

Mother: Meow.

Cat: Meow!

Me: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!

I guess what I’m trying to say is, if ever I’m found dead in this house with a cat beside me licking its paws furiously like it’s trying to get rid of evidence, there’s only one being responsible.

Its name is Thanos.


I hope you enjoyed that post by someone who isn’t me but merely sounds like me. Everybody knows I’m incapable of living with any animal smaller than a mastiff or pit bull, of course.

I also chomp cigars on weekdays.
I also chomp cigars on weekdays.

PS The budding doctor over at Misshopeshi recently nominated me for the Liebster Award, so click here to check that out and don’t bother me about how emotional my comment sounds.

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23 thoughts on “Scent of a Meow

  1. …..”, probably as an allegory
    for what my sister’s mother-in-law will do in the future.” This,your sister totally should read…. Uwiiiii..

    Kelvin you put the cat in the refrigerator
    😱😱

    I am sure if the big bang theory cast (men)read the star trek bit they would follow this blog to infinity

    Hahaaaaa .. I gotta love this blog… I am no cat lover whatsoever but I sure love it… Haha cat language between mamaa kelvin and Thanos… Lool.

    Nice one kelvin.. 👏👏

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I am reminded of the camp TV show Batman. Perhaps Thanos is Cat-Woman, or the riddler. Trying to make some sort of connection here. Thinking of a cat that landed in my spaghetti dinner once. I have pissed off the lord of the felines.

    Liked by 2 people

    • This cat is more The Riddler. Cat-Woman is straight-forward. She doesn’t play games, just beats people up and takes diamonds. Now, The Riddler is more like this cat. This cat is looking for my weak spots (see: prodding my neck with paws), drawing out evil schemes over a long time. The Riddler has been testing me for years – whether it’s his challenges in the Arkham games or just his name (Edward Nigma? E.Nigma? ENIGMA?! COME ON! I had to grab a heavy dictionary to confirm I wasn’t thinking too hard!).
      Wow. There’s so much DC in this comment.

      Wait. Let me get this straight. A cat landed in your food? Of all places in this world? Seek absolution now before you are faced with the wrath of a thousand fur balls.

      Liked by 2 people

  3. I’d read this post before but I had an experience yesterday I just have to share. You say cats are evil because of their stares and intensively planned murders? Here’s a new evil far much worse: they steal the moment from men. So yesterday I was witg two lady friends at a food outlet burning time waiting for an evening lesson and we are having this animated discussion why am thr best man and I was on the brink of convincing them (All I needed to do was buy more afia and pap! We’d be done) when out of nowhere this really big furry black exotic cat appears. (Y’see those Nigerian movies where objects appear and disappear with too much sound effect than is necessary? Yea, like that) Of course there was a sound effect; my companions started shrieking like it was Michael Jordan around and for a moment I thought my mission was complete without having to part with the little cash I’d just borrowed. (You can’t get so lucky with girls). Thankfully I was the only one in this misery. Every other girl around diverted their attention to the cat and all the guys were forgotten and we were conjoined in our misery and desire to beat the shit out of the little sissy without coming out as psychopathic.

    Liked by 1 person

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