Two Cats Walk Into a Public Restroom...

Preface: This blog is, to me, like a blank canvas is to an artist - except I use words, and not paint. Also, the artist in my example is an elephant, who uses her trunk to fling random colors in the general direction of the canvas. But it's still art - to her. There was that one day, though, when she (the elephant) didn't feel like using paint anymore, so she just stood there and grunted, while staring at her blank piece of paper. Days went by, with more grunting, and still no desire to fling paint. This would be a really sad story, except that on the 8th, or 78th, day, she looked down and saw a brick of charcoal, took it in her massive trunk, and smeared it all over the paper, making a crumbly black mess. It felt good. It was a start. 

My image. After you read this peeing story, click this caption to read another about how I turned burgers into charcoal.

What I'm saying, friends, is that I'd like to strap some charcoal to my trunk and roll all over the keyboard, but all you'd see is *Y" Q(puiznnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnpwy0'76

-9 *$Z+W-[47nW________________Iz[  and I'd have to clean up a great big mess on my end. And I hate cleaning. So instead, I'll just stick to using words. A crumbly black mess of them. Starting right now. ☺

*****

The following story is true, only the species (and respective accoutrements) have been changed to protect the innocent.

Fresh Step ad image via Adweek.com

So, these two cats walked into the public men's room at the highway rest stop, both needing to pee something fierce. The litter boxes for peeing were lined up along a wall on the far end of the room, uncovered, but with high walls, in case of bad aim (no one likes to get sprayed, is all I'm saying). The two cats--not directly acknowledging each other, but making mental note of the fact that they were the only two cats in the room--beat paths to opposing corner boxes. The release was quick, and without conversation. 

The silent "elevator ride" (because everyone knows it's creepy to talk to strangers in an elevator) in the men's room would come to an abrupt halt, however, soon enough.

I should back up a minute and tell you that one of the cats in this story would rather have an invasive dental procedure, without Novocaine, than publicly display, let alone speak about, the deeds that take place in, or around, a toileting receptacle. No, for this cat, it would be better that no one ever admit to doing anything in a rest room - other than rest. Living with the shame of the thought that someone else was imagining him in a bathroom deed--of any kind--was simply more than he could bear. Which is why what happened next in that public men's room, is of significance. 

"Jiminy Christmas!" declared uninhibited cat, as he stood at the paw-wiping station, directly next to inhibited cat. So inappropriately close, even, that his whiskers were practically tickling the other cat's nose. "I came in here to do one thing, but now, doggone it, I've gotta go do something else!"

Those words--"now I've gotta do something else"--lay in the space between inhibited cat's ears for seemingly 15 minutes, while he pondered, in horror, whether to say something in response. But, alas, all he could do was stand there and make a weird nodding gesture. Weird, in that he never made eye contact with uninhibited cat, and his head nodding was so slight, that it would've been undetectable to the naked eye. It was as if he had pretended not to hear the cat speaking at all. The cat whose mouth was practically in his ear, and who was staring a hole in the side of his face. 

The ensuing silence was even more awkward, in fact, than if inhibited cat had shouted in reply, "Well, I hope it all comes out okay!" or, "Gee, thanks for sharing!" or, "Lemme get outta here before you stink up the joint!" or "Ewwww, GROSS!" or even, frankly, if he had burst out in full-on laughter, right in uninhibited cat's face. I mean, really, what the heck should someone say in response to a total stranger making an announcement that he needs to take a dump?

Eventually, though, uninhibited cat gave up on a reply, turned away and climbed inside one of two enclosed litter boxes, tucked in a ventilated alcove. 

Inhibited cat didn't hang around long enough to hear uninhibited cat's inevitable narrative.  

 ~ The end ~

So, tell me, are your "cats" inhibited? Or, if you can't relate to cats, your dogs? I feel bad for you if they are. I mean, who has time for that tap dance?

By the way, you should wipe the charcoal smear off your nose before returning to whatever it was that you were doing. Just use the pretend baby wipes by the door. ☺

10 (Previously Published) Reasons My Dogs Are Strange + One 'Scary-Spice' New One

Note: This post has nothing to do with Mel B.

A few days ago, after posting on Facebook about how the dogs had been particularly barky that morning, a reader brought up in comments how her beloved dog, Nugget, had a few quirky barking habits of his own. One of those habits, she went on to say, even necessitates a psych ritual (as in she has to psych herself up for the impending bark fest) every time she uses the hair dryer. (yikes!)

Post by The Chronicles of Cardigan.

And so, I told her about how I can't open my spice drawer, without Jon Farleigh going ballistic and trying to "kill" all the spice jars with his nose.

We agreed that we both needed to get the spectacles on video.

Today, I have upheld my end of the "bargain." For your viewing pleasure:

Jon Farleigh, Trying to Save Us All From a Dried Parsley Attack

And now, I have a few questions for you:

1. Has anyone else's dog - now or ever, in the collective generations of all your family trees - attacked a spice bottle?
2. Do you think Jon Farleigh needs an intervention, or some seasoning-directed-anger management counseling? Before he actually does "kill" all the spices?
3. Can anyone recommend a dog counselor with those credentials?
4. Does anyone else think Jon Farleigh's still cute, even when he's acting like an angry, canine alien?

By the way, I answered "yes" to that last question, because I'm a crazy dog lady. ☺

So, who wants to revisit 10 other ways my dogs (BOTH of them) are strange? (I swear, I couldn't make this stuff up, even if it came to me in a dream. Also, this is not an exhaustive list.)

OK, YAY! Here you go!

Originally posted on November 4, 2013...

10 (Previously Unpublished) Reasons Why My Dogs Are Strange

Sometimes I go through the better part of a day just scratching my head in wonderment. Is it possible that they are alien, dog impostors?

10 Reasons Why My Dogs Are Strange

1. Jon Farleigh: Carries a "pacifier/binky" (e.g., Kong, bone, sock, stuffie, bottle) everywhere he goes. If it's not in his mouth (like when he's eating/sleeping), it's within easy grasp.

His pacifier du jour.

2. Dewi: When on car rides, prefers to travel with his whole snout shoved into the corner of the backseat.

3. Jon Farleigh: Whenever a cat leaves the room in which he's occupying, charges after the animal, while violently shaking his "pacifier"-toting head. Note: No animals have ever been injured during this process (in fact, the cats mostly roll their eyes); however, some (humans included) have been jarred awake from sound sleep.

4. Dewi: Humps Jon Farleigh every time he (Jon Farleigh) charges a cat leaving the room. (Recap: Cat leaves room; JF charges cat; Dewi humps JF. Repeat, as necessary.)

5. Jon Farleigh: Growls whenever he's enjoying a particularly good back scratch.

6. Dewi: Screams in fear whenever he thinks he's going to get his nails trimmed* (as in, I am holding his paw in one hand and the clippers in the other). And by scream, I mean scream (not whine, not yelp, not bark - scream). Like this baboon scream:

Like this, except not fake. And with clippers.

Like the last time we went to the vet for his annual physical, and they needed some blood for his heartworm check*...

Me to vet assistant: He might scream. He screams when I handle his paws and he sees the nail clippers.

Assistant: That's okay, a lot of dogs do. Just hug him, like so, while we get a little blood from his wrist.

Me: [hugs Dewi]

Dewi: SCREAM SCREAM SCREAM SCREAM SCREAM!!!!!!

Dead people: [wake up]

Me: [soothingly to Dewi] It's okay, buddy, it's all over! What a good boy! 

Vet tech: All we did was swab the site with alcohol; keep hugging him! We need to get the vessel on the first try.

Me: [to myself] Good lord, it was just a swab?!?!

1/2 dozen or so bystanders staring through the examining room door: [wonder whether to call 911] 

Me: [To myself] I told them he'd scream. [to Dewi] It's okay, buddy, just a little bit longer! Good boy! Good boy! [to the Heavens] Please, God, please let that needle go in the vein on the first try.

Dewi: [quiet]

Vet tech: All done! Good job, Dewi! [Straight-up lies, while wiping beads of sweat off her brow.]

The vet'll be by in a few minutes to read the test.

7 minutes later...

Vet: [smiling] I understand this guy got a little upset getting his blood drawn. 

Dewi: [wiggles and beats tail out of sheer joy]

Me: [trying not to giggle] Yeah, but he's okay now. It was just his feet. He'll be perfectly unfazed by the rest of the exam, including his shots. Really.

Vet: OK, but I've got something here that'll keep him busy - just in case - while I give him the shots. [produces jar of ground chicken baby food; proceeds to spoon half of it into a paper bowl, and place it in front of Dewi]

Me: [to myself, as Dewi scarfs down the food] Boy, does that dog know how to work a room. :-/

Addendum: I forgot to mention that - when he doesn't perceive me to have the clippers - Dewi loves to have his paws handled. In fact, he voluntarily "hands" them to me for all-over, between-the-pad massages. And because his feet smell deliciously of Fritos, I happily oblige! How's that for strange?!

* Update 2014: At his last well-check, the vet tech took blood from Dewi's jugular vein (vs. his wrist). It was blissfully drama-free (and, per the vet tech, a completely routine place from which to get blood from a dog). 

...OK, back to the list...

7. Jon Farleigh: Yaps and "pecks" (bonks) Maddox with his nose whenever Maddox walks into the kitchen. Conversely, is afraid to get within 5 feet of Maddox everywhere else in the house.

Like this, except in the kitchen and with a lot more bonks. 

8. Dewi: Is afraid of inflated balloons.

9. Jon Farleigh: Hates so badly when the cats play with string, that he steals the string, shakes it until it's "dead," and then sits on it for safe keeping. 

10. Jon Farleigh and Dewi: Have no fear of loud noises, including (knock knock) thunder. Probably because those loud noises - compared to their loud protests against string and nail clippers, for example - pale in comparison. 

* Dewi has not always screamed (at me) while getting nail trims, nor has he ever experienced a nail injury. However, the screaming and stress is why I (mostly) take him to the groomer for nail trims now, because, for some reason, he does not scream at her.

(And, in case you're wondering, I like my dogs strange. My cats, too. I mean really, like I'm the picture of normalcy!)

So, tell me, what strange things do your dogs (or cats, if you don't have dogs) do?