Saturday, June 28, 2008
Butthead the Wonder Cat
Butthead was an amazing cat. He could read. (I must stop here and laugh. I've told this story many times. Some people don't know how to take it. They're like... is she serious? My response is I'm as serious as I can get away with being. Only if that's not too serious or disrespectful of Butthead's awe inspiring abilities.)
I've got a lot of books. I'm not sure how many... but let's just say I have 70 Rex Stout murder mysteries. Before writing this post I would have said I had over 200 books and 40 Rex Stout murder mysteries. Having just counted the one... I'm not going to attempt the other. (Bibliophilia is an inheritable trait. I'm sure one day they'll find a small snickering corner of the double helix that is responsible, in its twisted way, for bibliophilia.)
That's just to give you some perspective on how I know... my cat Butthead could read. Because, you see, there were only 2 books he ever puked on. We lived together for over 15 years. Those 15 years spanned 7 and a half residences. (yikes!) And one small period of living out of my car. (Which was more due to my ineptitude at living logistics than fiscal difficulty.) He was such an easy cat that I became too comfortable with having him roam about... until I stepped on a cat rather than a brake pedal while out apartment searching.
And the 2 books he puked on? And in not just one spew, I must point out. This happened at 2 different times separated by 6 months.... 8 months... a year? I totally forget. (You know how it is. You think they'll be around puking forever.) It would be dismissible if he'd gotten them both in one spew. No, my cat Butthead nailed 2 Vegetarian Cookbooks on distinctly separate missions, thus earning his place of honor in the kitty cat Hall of Superiority forever. R.I.P., Butthead.