BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat
BC: Can I have a duck?
{pause}
MK: Okkkkkkay.
BC: Okay, I can have a duck?
MK: No, okay . . . I'm waiting to hear your reason for wanting a duck.
BC: What does it matter why?
MK: Because I'm trying to figure out if you want a friend or a food.
BC: Actually two ducks. And a goose.
MK: To eat?
BC: Do you eat your friends? Never mind. Don't tell me - that explains why you have no friends.
MK: You want two ducks and a goose.
BC: Were you listening?
MK: I'm (again) trying to figure out why.
BC: You humans are so stuck on "why." Why does it rain? Why is the sky blue? Why did my childhood suck? Why did my friend do that to me? Why, why, why. As if knowing the answer changes anything.
MK: I think we just try to understand the world - partially, because we think we can prevent further hurt by understanding how we've been hurt in the past. And some people genuinely enjoy learning about things like why the sky is blue or why it rains. The point is knowledge, not to change anything.
BC: The game, "Duck, duck, goose" sounds fun to me. I want to play.
MK: You don't actually play it with animals.
BC: Well, that's discriminatory. And false advertising. I want the authentic experience.
MK: Do you even know how it's played?
BC: I assumed the ducks and goose did a little dance . . . maybe laid an egg or two. Then they cooked the goose. I've never had goose. But I've had gander. And what's good in the gander is good in the goose.
MK: I need some ibuprofen. Some times I wish you had a father.
BC: I DON'T HAVE A FATHER?!?!?!
MK: No, you have a cat father . . . well, I assume you do anyway; I never figured out who he was among the clowder. But I meant a human male to help me manage you.
BC: Bear is not "managed," he's experienced.
MK: Okay. A human male to help me explain things to you when you get fur-brained ideas.
BC: Like that worked out so well for us the first time.
MK: Okay. Fine. Forget the human male. I wish I wasn't the only one having to explain the shortcomings of your plots and conspiracies.
BC: But I already know everything.
MK: That's the problem. Let's see. There was your plot to duplicate the miracles in the Bible, your plot to get a whale, your plot to run for President, your plot to get a whole chicken, your plot to find your "real mom," your plot to obtain a catfish by filling out a dating profile, your plot to get rid of me, your multiple plots to steal things from me or otherwise wreak havoc in my life . . . and those are just the ones I can name off the top of my head. You've got more plots than a soap opera!
BC: No! I will KILL you first!
MK: What?
BC: I can't imagine any hell worse than you giving me a soap opera.
MK: But . . .
BC: No. No soap. No opera. Your regular singing is bad enough. And if I don't want a bath without soap, I'm sure as heck not going to want one WITH soap.
MK: But, that's not . . .
BC: If I get ducks, I might take a bath with them though. I don't know. Do ducks clean themselves by licking? Are they that flexible? Because I'm not licking a duck. Unless it's a dead duck.
MK: Ducks preen to clean their feathers and rearrange their feathers for optimal flight and waterproofness. And they can turn their heads all the way around.
BC: I think I was meant to be a duck. I've always thought my fur was more appropriately termed "plumage." And I spend a lot of time preening so I'm pretty.
MK: But you don't waddle or quack.
BC: No. I leave that to you.
MK: BEAR! I do not waddle.
BC: So you admit you quack!
MK: No. I'm just more insulted by the prospect of waddling.
BC: It says a lot about your vanity that you are more concerned about waddling instead of quacking.
MK: Says the cat that prances in front of a mirror every day - some times for hours.
BC: Unlike you, I don't have the luxury of staring at myself all day. My life would be so much better if I could admire myself 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Talk about a house with a view!
MK: Oh, Bear.
BC: Seriously! You have a lot to learn from me. I see you always avoiding mirrors . . . like it would just KILL you to look at yourself. You act like you hate the mirror - but even you know better. You know what? My head is slightly smallish, especially with my super long body. And my tail is thin and not bushy. And yes, my tummy is always full and I like to take long naps. But I take pride in the whole picture. And I don't hide from life because I'm afraid of what it might see.
MK: Bear . . .
BC: And furthermore, I see how much you love me and how you are always telling me how cute I am. Now, I may not appreciate all the times you feel compelled to touch me when I'm just "SO CUTE," but you don't seem to mind the flaws I could easily pick out. The only reason you know about them is because other people have pointed them out to you. In fact, you don't see them at all. Because you love me. And the fact that you love me like that - just the way I am - says more about you than if you look 6 months pregnant - permanently (and I'm not saying you do - I just know that's what you mumble to yourself).
MK: Okay, but . . .
BC: Your butt is fine too. Not that I'm interested in human butt, but I'm just saying it doesn't offend me or anything. Anyway, I wasn't done. I see all the ways you try to make my life better - even the teeny tiniest ways - like adding a flap to my paper bag or putting out towels on the window sills so I'm more cozy. And you think of these new things like EVERY DAY. You are constantly thinking about how you can make my life better. So let anyone who wants to criticize your body chew on THAT!
MK: I see who's teaching who here. Funny that despite all your fur-brained ideas, you're pretty smart about stuff Momma is kind of behind on.
BC: I accept payment in the form of whole chickens, two ducks and a goose, cat snacks, ear rubs and back scratches. Which method of payment would you like to use today?
MK: Snuggles?
BC: Done.
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: I love you, Momma. PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
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| The "guru" takes the podium. "Ask me anything . . . except 'why.'" |
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