The Unauthorized Biography of Rosco P. Coltrane

When it's my moment in the sun, I won't forget that I am blessed, but every hero walks alone, thinking of more things to confess

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Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Marriage: Or How I Came To Aquire Two Cats

Sharing a bed is still and adjustment to me. I liked my big old bed and never thought for a second which side of the bed to sleep on. In fact, there were a lot of times when I would actually sleep facing the foot of the bed. Didn't matter. Didn't make the bed. Whatever. But things are different now in married life. Now I have to share.

And it isn't always fun.

Because sometimes I will be sound asleep and get woken up. When I open my eyes, there is an ass right in my face. I will still be wiping a bit of sleep from my eyes when a tail tickles my nose. I push the cat off the bed and go use the bathroom. The cats just stand right next to the toilet watching me take a midnight whiz. All the while, they are trying to rub their head on my leg while I try not to piss on them. Which thankfully, my trying has so far been 100 percent successful. I tend to think that Toby stares at me because he has been neuter and is fondly remembering the body parts he once had.

I like our cats. They have funny personalities. And I am almost to the point where I know their habits and their tendencies. Toby tries to open the window blinds every morning. Mona likes to hide away in the top of the bathroom cabinet crawlspace. Sometimes when I am waking up, I will splash some water on my face, Mona will jump out of the cabinet right past my face. Usually, thankfully I have yet to soil myself because of these feline Kamikaze jumps.

I have gotten used to never leaving a door open. I have even got used to them knocking things over in the middle of the night. When we first moved into our house, I thought for sure that the house was haunted because of all the things that seemed to crash.

I still think it is weird that they poop in a box next to the kitchen. But, they like to open the door to the bathroom when I am pooping and I am sure they look at me with the same bewilderment and disgust.

The first time Toby puked on the rug, I was so disgusted I had to go take a shower. I thought he was humping the rug at first and then he began to vomit. The sound he made sounded like someone threw a hub cab into a wood chipper. I told Jen that I wanted to throw away the rug that he puked on. She said we couldn't. So I cleaned the rug with gasoline and a bead blaster. I still don't like to step on that rug.

I like to play with the laser pointer. I like to pet them. Though Jen usually starts to mock me whenever I am petting them by saying, "Easy there Lenny, easy there."

I trip over them constantly. They love to camp out in front of my feet.

I don't understand what they eat. Usually, when Jen and I are at the grocery store I will point out a particular brand of a cat food. Jen will ask me why I picked that brand or flavor. Well, because the cat on the label looks like one of our cats. This seems totally reasonable to me. But Jen usually just rolls her eyes. She also won't let me buy a goldfish to feed Toby. I think he would like it. Sylvester always wanted to eat a goldfish in the cartoons. But, now, as I am writing this all down, I realize just how dumb it is for me to base owning and caring for a pet with a Loony Toon.

The scary thing is I talk to them. It weirds me out when I catch myself explaining something to Toby or asking Mona a question. For some reason, I think I am a bit more insane for talking to the cats than talking to myself.

They are good pets. I am getting used to them always being around. They are still getting used to me.

And tomorrow, I will wake to the sound of Toby trying to open up the blinds next to the bed, and hopefully, Mona's ass won't be in my face.


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