Why is this a weakness of mine? Simply put, I, like most people, cannot help but anthropomorphise my pets. As such, every time I watch either one of our cats do something, some part of me is running a narrative in my head of what I think the cat might be thinking. Sometimes they have accents. I'm pretty sure the new Calico Holly, for example, has a little Irish lilt, but I have no idea why. Azure, on the other hand, sounds a lot like my lovely wife, who like to taunt me about the cat's affection for me by narrating her take on the kitty's thoughts. It's a little sick.
What makes this so ridiculous is that I've watched these cats. I've seen how they operate. After Azure tried to catch the pointer on Dora the Explorer for the 800th time, I had to accept that there was no dialog going on in there. There's nothing going on in there at all. If they attached one of those monitors on her little, dumb, kitty brains, it would show less activity than Mario's success chart of the times when he actually attacked the right %#$@ing castle.
Anyway, I continue to get suckered into believing that they are thinking something. I will go on writing little dramas involving the cruel, deviant Azure trying to stifle the plucky, irrepressible Holly. The maniacal laughter. The inspiration defiance. The final showdown, involving them viciously attacking one another in a fight to the death (this scene plays out more often than it probably should, but it makes for great theater, plus it's funny when they forgot that they're on the bed or couch and they fall of mid-fight).
Perhaps if I could figure out a way to keep the monocle on Azure, I could finally share these visions with the world.
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