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A Year in Books - 2009-12-27
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The coleslaw got served. - 2009-10-21
Probably a new job. But maybe not. - 2009-10-08

No, look. "Wuv." With an Earth "W."
2006-02-13 10:36 a.m.

I have these two cats. George and Moussa. I've had George since he was a kitten. Moo has only been living here since last summer.

And yes. "Moussa" struck me as kind of a wussy name for a boy cat, so I call him "Moo" for short. Sometimes, "Moussacellaneous."

Honestly, I am cringing just now, to be admitting that. I have cats. I am occasionally nauseatingly cute about it. I swore I'd never go down that road in here. I would resist all temptations to write the "I have fuzzy kitties and I wuvs them!" entry. But the idea for this entry has been floating around my head for almost a month. I don't think I can ignore it any longer.

So, here we go. The Cat Entry.
***
I have these two cats. George and Moo. Lately, my brain has been consumed with the desire to figure out which one is my favorite.

I'm not getting very far in my research, because as soon as I start thinking about the question too deeply, all the Saccharine Alarms in my head start going off at once. TOO...CUTE! MUST...RESIST...BEING...TOO...CUTE!!!

I think this is the week to finally do it. Everywhere you go on the internet this week, you'll find people being mushy. You don't want to read that. My cat entry is comparatively not annoying at all.

I swear I'll stop being all meta and actually get to the entry any minute now.
***
George has an advantage of course, because I've known him longer. He was an adorable kitten. He used to hide in empty 12-packs. So cute! He also wins points for his single most endearing cat trick, licking. If you manage to convince him to sit on your lap, and start petting him, he will return the favor, and lick whatever part of your skin he can reach. For George, love tastes like chicken.

He usually won't offer to sit on my lap. I have to find him, and pick him up, and bring him to my lap. Usually, he stays, and he always seems to enjoy the experience, but he never makes the first advance.

He likes Ian's lap for some reason. Every time Ian comes over, George goes straight to him. My personal theory is that George does this just to hurt me. "See? I like laps just fine. Bitch, YOUR lap is deficient."

Moo is a lot less complex. He just wants love. Constant love. "Yes. Stroke the belly. Love the Moo. Wait, you're not stopping, are you? We're not done here. You missed a spot. There, ok, I'm good. Oh wait, no, I'm not."

Moo is also a master of "My, what a comfortable looking book you're reading." And then he lies right in front of the book, and turns to look at me. "Yes, it's the ears again. I know. I thought we were done too. What can you do? I really do need the top of my head rubbed pretty urgently, though. Thanks. Also, yeah, that spot between my shoulder blades."

I think I enjoy snuggling with George slightly more, because it actually feels like an accomplishment. Moo is a whore-kitty. He'll put those ears out for anyone. If George stays in your lap, and if you manage to bring him to kitty ecstasy, he becomes so completely relaxed that further movement is impossible. You've just got this boneless mass of fur sprawled across your lap (sometimes, a tongue emerges and massages my wrist) and he purrs so loudly that it resonates through the entire apartment.

So, George is a better snuggler. It's harder to get the payoff, but so much more satisfying.

However, Moo totally sweeps the "playing" category. George usually doesn't play much. Sometimes, you can get him to watch you throw a ball, but chasing it is really too much effort.

Moo plays with almost anything. We've settled into a routine lately where I complete my daily "crossword a day" calendar, crumple the completed page into a ball, and throw it at Moo. He bats it back. I throw it again. Hilarity ensues.

We play this game with him on top of the kitty tower, and me in the chair underneath. He's started jumping to the top of the tower and purring as soon as I reach for the calendar.

Are you nauseated yet? Wait till I tell you the best part. Eventually, Moo grows weary of the game. He signals the end of the round by picking up the crumpled paper in his mouth and carrying it to behind my chair. I don't think that will ever stop amusing me. Rijid is all, "Well, how else is he going to carry it?" but it's such a cognitive leap that George simply never made.

We simply can't discuss my cats without mentioning their annoying habits. They're both going to lose a lot of points here.

George goes in the bathroom and meows. Loudly. He used to go to the door, and I thought it was just that he thought he could convince me to open the door for him, so we could play the Hallway Game. Then one day Chrystal was over, and she mentioned that her cat goes to the bathroom to meow, because the acoustics are better. I swear to God, George heard and understood this, because now he goes into the bathroom sometimes too. "Hmm, yes," he thought, "That WOULD be infinitely more annoying." It echoes through the entire apartment. It sounds like he's being tortured. It's only a matter of time before the neighbors complain.

Moo's annoying trick seems comparatively benign. He licks plastic. See? That doesn't sound bad at all. Trust me though, when it happens constantly, it's really really grating.

His favorite plastic is cellophane. For some reason, the noise a cat's tongue makes on a cellophane bag is comparative to fingernails on a chalkboard for me. So, I move the bag out of his reach. I'm a bad housekeeper, so he always finds more plastic. Once he gets it into his head that it's time to lick the plastic, there is no stopping him. When he reaches the stage of standing up on his hind legs to lick the tiny corner of the bag sticking out of the garbage can, I know it's over. There's nothing I can do but grit my teeth and try to wait it out.

I don't know which of them "wins" this category. Both have reduced me to a quivering ball of rage under the right circumstances.

Fuuny how George's cutest trick and Moo's most annoying one are the same thing. George needs to teach Moo that no, when you want to lick something, go for the hand. Then, Moo could tell George that really dude, when you want attention, you just have to jump into a lap. That yowling in the bathroom thing just pisses them off.

George purrs as soon as I pick him up. Moo doesn't like being carried. Edge? George.

George sleeps on the foot of my bed. Moo wakes me up by purring in my ear. Edge? Moo.

George runs out into the hallway when I've got my arms full of groceries. Then, he lets me catch him, and purrs all the way back to the apartment. Moo prefers hiding behind the door. I've never really been clear on his motivation. Maybe he's trying to escape, but he forgets which way the door opens. Maybe he just likes that little sliver of light appearing in the comparatively dark apartment hallway. Edge? Too close to call. George is annoying, but then endearing. Moo is just funny.
***
So here I am at the end of The Cat Entry. Just as you probably suspected, I still can't decisively say which one I prefer. They're both really good at what they do. George is cool. Moo is more agressively cute.

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