How Many Licks Does it Take? Or Do I Not Want to Know?

Smith, Matt (directory-style),


Should I worry that my cat compulsively licks the futon?

This is not a single lick. This is repeated, obsessively, hard-core licking.* He's doing it right now. It's... rhythmic. And annoying. It's rhythmically annoying. What's more, he's soaking the futon cushion. But back to the matter at hand, which is, of course, whether or not I should worry.

I'm sure there are those in the of-course-you-should-worry camp, but to those people, I say nay. Nay, people, I will not worry. Yes, it is a behavior that signifies compulsion and some other types of mental disease, but I'd argue that that is the nature of the cat. Er, any cat.

He's still licking, by the way.

Cats are ridiculous creatures. And my ridiculous creature is still licking.**

All this is to avoid tackling a real topic in this blog, like global warming or politics, or even something as la-de-da as knitting or crocheting or any other crafty pastime. I abhor... writing about things that matter?

Yes. I worry more about the fact that it costs more for public transportation than it does to buy a soda.
I worry about the feet of pigeons... have you seen them? There's something about the fact that a great deal of pigeons are born defective - clubbed feet, bent wings, screwed-up beaks - and yet they continue to survive. And they aren't outcasts amongst pigeon-kind. In fact, I'd bet they were a majority.

I worry that I might be going blind from sitting in front of a computer, typing in this font. Can I change the font? Would that even help?

He's still licking.

I worry that if I go to bed now, the cat will simply follow me into my room, make himself comfortable on the bed, and just... keep... licking.

It's nice to have a night off.
- Meredith






*I wonder how this sentence will be misinterpreted by the search engines. Here's hoping my blog ends up on some porn site that is truly bizarre.
** Also, this one.