Monday, November 05, 2007

Sigh.

I shall write off a quick note about life and its mistress Irony because I am desperately trying to avoid sinking into my usual zombified post-afternoon slumber, which in my defence, is completely biological (proving the ingenuity of the Mexicans and their siestas) and thus not a result of my unwise choice to talk about music genres with my roommate till unprofessional hours of the morning.

As you may be well aware, I have a rather ridiculous obsession with the feline variety and its offspring, or for that matter, an innate affection for almost any sort of wildlife lucky enough not to be called by the names of mosquito, caterpillar, cockroach and flea - because these are not animals, they are spawns of the Devil and put on this earth to make my life miserable and hence I am justified in my hate.

And yes, I have reflected upon my feline obsession and have concluded that it is likely an evolutionary consequence and a self-defence mechanism since we are all intelligent human beings (some more than others) and if we figure out (consciously or subconsciously) that some creatures (like other human beings) are generally not worth the effort, time and obsession - we naturally find other more intelligent creatures (like cats) to divert our obsession towards.

We thus come to the point of my post which I promised would include the slut-child called Irony. I have been trying very hard not to indulge myself in my feline obsession because the last time that happened I ended up breaking the law which is sacrosanct in Singapore and most other countries (I think). And I also ended up with not one but three cats.

So, I think I deserve an award for having dutifully stayed away from cats in the last one month and not feeding them or showing them any form of affection which is about as easy as me turning vegetarian, and that says a lot.

But, (there's always a 'but') one night I came back to the apartment to see a very nice calico cat sitting quite daintily and right smack by the gate I had to pass in order to get home. I figured, I have been so good for so long, and I have no food on me anyway, there's no harm in just smiling and looking, right?

Wrong. Because just as I knelt down to get a closer look something else tumbled out of the darkness behind Calico, which I thought was a large rat at first, but with my kind of luck, it turned out to be a goddamn fluffy black kitten with the bushiest tail in the world, and it proceeded to display insane levels of cuteness. Its sibling, Kitten Number 2, tumbled out right after it and all three cats went on to merrily destroy the carefully constructed feline-proof walls I had built around me.

How did I end up living in an apartment block that was also home to two fluffy kittens and one calico cat? I'm not too sure, but I think that slut-child has something to do with it.








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