She had the kitty blahs last week. She just did not have the spunk that she normally has. It made me sad. When humans are feeling blue or are under the weather, we are capable of expressing as much. We can let others know how best to make us feel better, whether that be making some chicken noodle soup, or giving us a back rub... although I will always take a back rub... no need to feel sick for that to happen.... in fact, back rubs are the primary motivation behind my desire to meet my "hitherto unknown and probably non-existent" soul mate.
Anyway, animals are obviously not capable of speech such that we can understand so Oreo was unable to say such things as "I really don't feel like water right now, but a nice little saucer of milk would be swell". To which I would reply "I'm sorry sweetie, but milk makes your bum stinky". To which she would reply using one of them many expletives that she is capable and so fond of uttering.
So instead, she just kind of moped. She didn't really eat, didn't really drink, she just kind of languished, almost as if she were in mourning for some lost love. Today, however, she is feeling 100% back to normal, and I truly believe that she was indeed, in mourning for a lost love. And I have a pretty good idea what that lost love was.
It was tuna.
The former-PNB was over on Sunday and remarked that we live in a crazy house. What, with the roomie's cat running around sounding like a French police car with it's siren blaring, and my cat swearing like a sailor and scratching the crap out of anything within reach... it does seem like that sometimes. Especially when you are the first one to come home after work. Being the first one home means that you are practically mauled by two very loud cats shouting the mantra "Tuna, Tuna, Tuna, Tuna, Tuna" over and over again until it drives you to insanity. And boy, you had better make darn sure you give them that there tuna before you have even taken your shoes off lest the cries go from "Tuna, Tuna, Tuna" to "TUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNAAAAAAAA, TUUUUUUUUUUUNAAAAAAAA, TUUUUUNNNNNNNNNAAAAAAAA". It's frightening. Think French police car and French ambulance both at the same time wailing tunatunatunatuna over and over again. Let me just say that I have been on the phone with more than one person upon arriving home who have made the remark "What the Hell is that?", or something along those lines. Oh, and just so that you think that the other loftmate doesn't get it just because they came home later, the tuna mongers have no qualms about trying to trick them into giving them more tuna. Don't worry, we rarely fall for it... little bastards.
What am I getting at? I don't know, got side tracked. No wait, I remember. Tuna. So, we ran out of tuna last week which was, coincidentally about the same time that Oreo's funk started. The roomie picked up some tuna yesterday which was, coincidentally about the same time that Oreo got out of her funk. Once coincidence... OK, I could buy that it was just that, a coincidence. But two? I think not... My cat lamented for a week because she didn't have tuna. It's the only explanation. I was worried for a week over tuna. As god as my witness, I shall never eat tuna again!
Beatrice "not a big deal because I never really ate tuna anyway" Petty