We got a new kitten. From Satan. Kitten is named Albert, after Albert Einstein. He (the kitten) is apparently smart. There is the type of smart that cures cancer. Then there is the type of smart that counts matches or wins at the track, but lives in a car. Albert would be the latter.
- He chases paper. No matter when, no matter where, if you wad up a piece of paper Albert drops whatever he’s doing (eating, sleeping, chasing a different wad of paper) and comes to chase that piece of paper. Nothing is as seductive to him as the sweet caress of dried tree pulp grinding against itself.
- He is a glue sniffer. I was working on a project that involved rubber cement. Albert tore himself away from one of 17 wads of paper on the living room floor and began to sniff. He sat up on his haunches like a little grey monkey. Then he started making wacky eyes at the ceiling fan and meowing really weird. That’s not normal. Unless you are some sort of card-counting savant.
- He has kitty beds, kitty blankets, a kitty tower, and of course various “forbidden” furniture. Where is he passed out right now? My inbox on my desk. Clearly a life of comfort is foreign to him. His glue-addled brain has him thinking that contorting himself on a stack of bills is as good as it gets. Go with God, little soldier… and be brave.
I can only surmise that Albert’s the kind of smart that’d win the Nobel prize and squander his winnings on hookers and blow. Just look at him! I’m afraid to leave him alone with the pepper and vinegar. What he can’t snort he’ll drink.
And that reminds me of the time my husband and I went to Kauai (how the hell do you spell that) and maxed out our Visa on liquor and Spam.