Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Limo the Legend Lives On

Cats are a touchy topic. And the fact that I am even trying to tackle this topic is all rather ambitious and controversial of me.

Some hate cats; In fact, I know a very upstanding US citizen who is rather appalled by the mere presence of a feline and goes into a state of legitimate but minor fear.

Some love cats; In fact, I know someone who has paw print tattoos on her arms and talks about her cats nonstop and studies feline behavior. And others are neutral to the critters (much like my opinion of chinchillas).

But I am one of those people who, on a scale of one to thirteen, is about a 9.7. I like cats, I enjoy cats, but I do not love them and I do not oogle and awe over them, (with the exception of hairless cats, but I've never seen a hairless cat although I would very much like to). However, when I notice a cat, I feel obligated to bend down and give it a good scratch behind the ears as I am deeply and importantly talented in regards to giving cats scratches behind the ears. And I can't let my talent go to waste now, can I? No.

So I will tackle the topic of cats with great care and by illustrating, as best I can with my limited human capacity, the story of Limo. Many of us will remember our dear Limo whether we are cat lovers, cat haters or those void of an opinion to the creatures. And then we will get a dewy far-away look in our eyes and think "Limo really was a legend."

Limo passed away a few months ago after seventeen years of a debaucheries lifestyle. She had two teenage pregnancies (I doubt she even knew the fathers), she roamed the streets at night, scaled walls and made her way into forbidden spaces via burglarious entries—not to mention that killing small animals was her favorite hobby. As a result from her carousing and impulsive behavior, the well-loved degenerate died at the tender age of 17 from a wound in the hindquarters incurred a vulgar brawl between her and a rodent.

Let us rewind a few years to the day we brought her home.

Even back then, her savageness revealed itself. She enjoyed softly biting the legs and feet of her human victims and digging her claws into their flesh. She would hide behind a corner and then attack her victims when they least expected it. She acted as if it were some sort of rambunctious game to be taken with a smile on one's face and a laugh in one's throat. It was as if she was enjoying her ghastly hobby. Despite her strange psychological condition and her love of danger we decided to keep this tabby cat. But, we still didn't have a name for this thing.

As a seven year old, I was in favor of a truly lame name like "Puzzles" or something akin to that. My sibling was in favor of the name "Limo." Yes. Like the car. Why you ask? Well, you see, when you held this cat in an odd position and stretched her out as long as you could, she lengthened like a slinky. We observed that when stretched a bit, the cat was abnormally elongated. Thus, we decided collectively that her name would be Limo because she resembled a long car.

She had at least nine lives and was a highly esteemed mouser, well-known in cat circles for her uncanny ability to discard of any rodent, bird or reptile. She also attempted to off some canines at their attempt to eat her offspring when she was a teenage mother. I cannot stress enough her ability to kill animals as she left them all over the place as if to show off and brag the way women brag about the smokin’ deal they got on some designer shoes at the mall.

Now I do feel like perhaps I am not putting the best construction on dear Limo and I'm only magnifying her failures (hey, we all have failures...some just more than others..). But Miss Limousine she was an overall nice kitty. Although she did not enjoy being held or cuddled she displayed her affection by rubbing her cat hair on the legs of humans. She also liked to stand as a human stroked her fur. She only got truly upset with humans if they stepped on her tail. Although she killed pretty much anything smaller than her (and some critters bigger than her) she respected humans. And I can say with utter certainty that she never tried to kill me or eat me.

Despite her beastliness, her ravenous appetite for rats, chipmunks and hummingbirds I have to say that I loved that cat. And I still like cats in general.
So, with all this to say about Limo, how is it that a quiet unassuming citizen like myself comes to have an opinion of cats that is slightly above neutral when clearly I have been subject to observing their destructive character? It could be that Limo produced a son called Salty who was a delight (the complete opposite of his mother). Salty and I were quite compatible and enjoyed many afternoons sitting on the porch as I dressed him in doll clothes and he sat there purring.

Or, it could be that cats are pleasant to the eyes and their fur is very tempting. One is simply obligated to run their hands through it and give the feline a nice scratch behind the ears.

Or perhaps you don’t like cats because you had a cruel 2nd grade teacher who wore glasses that made her to resemble a Siamese cat.

So, whatever your reason is as to why you like or dislike cats, I am 100% sure that you have good solid evidence to support to position on cats with empirical evidence.

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