Since the onset of the pandemic, we’ve engaged in COVID humor and even prayed for legal marijuana, knowing that laughter is the best medicine for our iffy mental health. Looking for a silver lining in the dark clouds above, we dutifully made lemonade from lemons, so much so that there’s a pandemic of upper esophageal colitis, acid reflex and permanently puckered lips. “I love my puckered lips!” said no one ever.
Plus tooth decay from all that sugar.
{Sidebar: Let’s join virtual hands, including those who haven’t had a manicure in months, and raise our voices, united as one human green bean. Ready. Set. Go. “Someone’s singing Lord, kumbaya. Oh Lord, kumbaya… “ Well done, especially the alto section in the back, although someone should definitely just move their lips. No offense.
Desperation-Animal-Bonding
Anyhoo, ‘Burbia continues to be weird and spooky now that its inhabitants have realized they remain on the road to nowhere. For those of us marooned in our backyards, or even testing the murky shark-infested waters of outdoor dining, temporal days flow into metaphorical years; tomorrow is a mirror of yesterday; and we wander through our todays becalmed by uncertainty.
Mental health is certainly an issue (including in cats).
But there is good news. In addition to COVID humor and hopes for legal marijuana to take the edge off, “desperation-animal-bonding” (DAB) is now a thing. According to the nationally-worshipped psychiatrist, pet detective and senior-citizen sex object, Armando Fauci-Bulles-Drôles, “with DAB we see a statistically beefy surge in human face licking by canines, a skyrocketing uptick of canine nose-kissing by humans, and an exponentially hefty increase in humans and canines drinking out of the toilet bowl.
“DAB-BA DAB-BA DOO!!!
“Sadly, there’s been no discernible bonding uptick in cats. But, hey, you never know.” This brings us to our story: Fluffypuss Goes Rogue. Fasten your seat belts, folks. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.
Bad Mom Smokin’ Weed In Front of Her Cat
As our drama opens, Fluffypuss sits guard high atop the tchotchke cabinet in a ‘Burbian living room. Her sister, Peekaboo, is nowhere to be seen. Fluffypuss waits for a hot chance to ambush the wobbling Passing Authority Figure (PAF) whose unsteadiness implies a taste for legal marijuana.
Naked as a jaybird except for a sapphire blue collar and hot pink ID tag, she hums, in a shout-out to Barry Mann, “Who put the bomp in the bomp bah bomp bah bomp? Who put the ram in the rama lama ding dong…?”
Our passing authority figure (PAF) wears a bright yellow polyester, ankle-length robe, carries a martini, shaken not stirred, and takes an occasional toke on a joint. Legal marijuana? Who knows? Who cares? Higher than a kite, she is alert to life’s many alluring opportunities for the improvement of others. She is a serious person.
Are We Bonded or Stoned?
F-Puss: “Hey, lady. Who let the dogs out?”
PAF: “We don’t have any dogs.”
F-Puss: “My point exactly.”
PAF: “Oh, Fluffypuss. My pussy wussy. Let mommy give you a big kissy, wissy.”
F-Puss: “Give me liberty or give me death. Immediately.”
PAF: “Come to momma and let me kissy your nosey.”
F-Puss: “I know you’re stoned. You’re a terrible role model.”
PAF: “Hey! This is good shit, man!…Mmmm…I want to kissy your nosey.”
F-Puss: “Lady, if you kissy my nosey one more time, I will take a revenge dump in your lingerie drawer.”
PAF: “But, Fluffypuss – “
F-Puss: “Lady, talking to you is like engaging in conversation with a lamp: sometimes the light is on; sometimes the light is off.”
PAF: “But I am a good mommy. Didn’t I perform an exotic dance for you, wearing only a turban and my silver Manolo Blahniks?”
F-Puss: “I believe I was staring out the window watching Skippy the Squirrel try not to electrocute himself on the power line.”
PAF: “But you love it when I rub the side of your head. Why can’t I kissy your nosey?”
F-Puss: “You have no concept of boundaries, do you?”
Emotionally-drenched silence
Mental Health, Marijuana and Boundaries
F-Puss: “Let me put it to you this way. Being kissed on my nosey is demeaning. It infantilizes me. It embarrasses me in front of my friends.”
PAF: “But you don’t have any friends. Just your sister.”
F-Puss: “Every time you kissy me on my nosey Peekaboo gives me a noogie. I’m tired of being her punching bag just because you have nosey issues.”
PAF: “So what I’m hearing you say is that you need boundaries.”
F-Puss: “You bet your buppie I need boundaries. I want to live my own life. I want to dream the impossible dream. I want to get an apartment in the city.”
PAF: “But you can’t afford an apartment in the city. You don’t have a credit rating.”
F-Puss: “How do you know?”
PAF: “Please tell me, what else would make you happy, my Fluffy-wuffy-pussy-wussy? Legal marijuana?”
F-Puss: “Are you a hippie? A pothead? Mom! Are you a stoner?”
PAF: “Fliffy-wiffy-pissy-wissy! It’s not nice to call your momma a stoner! Hey, do you have any chocolate?”
F-Puss: “Lady! Listen! Going forward, you are to treat me like an equal. No more baby talk. And pet me only on the sides of my head, 10 times per side, after meals and before bedtime. And I’m not happy with snack. Next time try truffles.”
PAF: “Do we need parent-child counseling?”
F-Puss: “Lady, I think you need counseling.”
PAF: “But Fluffy-wuffy-ookums-snookums. I’ve been in therapy for 49 years. Can’t you tell?”
Fluffypuss Is Not a Cool Name for a Cool Cat!
F-Puss: “Not really. I also want you to change my name. ‘Fluffypuss’ is humiliating. It conjures images of your hoo hoo fur burger. It makes me want to stick my left paw down my throat and heave a fur ball right smack into the middle of your granola.”
PAF: “What name do you want?”
F-Puss: Dramatic pause for maximum effect
F-Puss: “Pussypants.”
PAF: “My wittle Pussypants. I want to give you the biggest wittle kissie right on your nosy posy.”
P-Pants: “DO. NOT. KISS. ME. ON. MY. NOSE. DO. NOT. DO. IT.”
Giant smooching sounds
Boom! Bop! Noogie! Boogie! Woogie!
“Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land.
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand.
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command.
The times they are a-changin…”
Bob Dylan
Love it!!! ❤️❤️
We’re definitely cat people! Any other cat lovers out there?
So funny, love it! I agree, no kisses on the nose but I’ve gotten use to nose-boops from my Hooman lol. =D
Our mom continues to practice nosey kissing. We have given up trying to change her. We can only change ourselves. Serenity now! Love, Fluffypuss & Peekaboo
Hilarious 😂! Thank you for the share. I have five cats and they all get nose kisses and baby talk. It’s just the way things are.
I love your philosophy of cats: “It’s just the way things are.” Brilliant! Thanks for reading…