Trust Me On This One

In addition to making me a better person environmentally, my lovely wife also plays an important role in making me a better person in my household - defending our cat. For those that don't know, about eight years ago we picked up a Siamese cat. Given that all of my previous cats were of the "come to the barn and take a kitten" variety, I was not aware of the specific temperament of the Siamese cats. Mainly, they have two talents: yowling, and getting in your face and yowling. Neither is particularly endearing to me.

Don't get me wrong - when she was a wee, white kitten it was cute. We'd come home from work, and she would make the arduous journey climbing pants and shirt to get all up in our Kool-Aid and subject us to a tiny feline version of "Just where the Hell have you been all day?". Now that she's all grown up, however, I find myself looking back at my past cats, who were far less vocal, with a certain longing.



My lovely wife thus defends her. "Look how pretty our kitty is," she'll say, and I have to acknowledge that she is the prettiest cat I've owned. "Look how much kitty loves you," she'll say, and I grudgingly acknowledge that, yes, she is very affectionate (especially with me, who is not nearly as friendly with her - I'm thinking daddy issues, but whatever). She also tells me to stop it when I point out that for a cost equivalent to that of her adoption, I could have gotten a hamster, cage and all, who would have made far less noise. So she has thus protected the cat from my ire, which is probably a good thing.

Now she just has to protect her from the Princess, who once again brought up the idea of a kitty Halloween costume, an idea that rates with visiting an amateur proctologist both in awfulness and potential physical harm.