Let me start by saying I like cats. That statement and the fact that no one knows where I live might save me.
Or, how about this statement? No cats, PETA members or Vegans, were hurt during the writing of this piece.
I know I’m treading in dangerous water, so it’s best to make my case and get it over with: I love cats and Vegetarians. They taste like chicken. The truth: I don’t like chicken.
Good gracious, Granny, don’t get yer bloomers in a bunch until you read this post from start to finish. Here's my story:
There is a house on Star Island on Miami Beach referred to as the Cat House. It is two doors down from $58 million home of Dr. Phillip Frost and is worth about $22 million.
I cannot for the life of me find out who the Cat Lady was or when exactly she died. I did, however, find a classified ad looking for people who love cats and who have impeccable references.
The Crazy Cat Lady left her estate to her cats. Rumor is that 14 to 20 cats live in the lap of luxury at her estate and will continue to do so until they all die. Did this woman have kids? How do they feel about this?
Talk about going postal and having a valid reason to do so.
- Imagine waiting on cats day and night for minimum wage.
- Imagine watching your own children struggle with life, love and their education, while pampering a bunch of cats that have a better house, better food and possibly better heath care.
The world is insane.
I believe that someone must have dropped this Cat Lady on her head as a child.
Let’s take a look at the stereotypical Crazy Cat Lady. He or she must be near or above middle age and have very few friends.
The Crazy Cat Lady's family must only talk to her out of an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. She must have given up on the idea of ever finding Mr. or Mrs. Left, much less Right. She must be able to carry on a conversation with any unsuspecting person who might wander into her house, all the while, keeping a straight face as the innocent person turns green from the smell of cat urine and other things we can’t mention here.
Traveling salesmen, members of religious originations, census workers, social workers and people who work for charities, all fall into this list of unfortunate souls and are always welcomed at the Crazy Cat Person's house.
If you sell brushes, knives or vacuum cleaners and the door is opened wide when you knock, you are at the home of the Munsters or Addams family, or in the movie Wrong Turn, worse you might be entering the house of a Crazy Cat Person. Your eyes will water, your nose hairs will melt.
Did you know that John Lennon once referred to himself as The Crazy Cat Lady in disguise? He loved cats, his first was named Elvis. He once owned 10 at one time and had one named Jesus. His favorite cat, Alice, quite by accident jumped from the window of their high-rise apartment and used up all her lives at one time. She died on the same sidewalk where he would later die. His son, Sean, said that the day of Alice’s death was the only time he ever saw his father cry.
Recently federal charges were filed against the museum dedicated to Ernest Hemingway on Key West. In 1935, he was given a six-toed cat by a sea Captain friend. He loved his cats so much that when he died he made provisions for them in his will. They will be cared for until the last one dies. At present there are somewhere near 60 living in the museum.
The six- and seven-toed cats, known as Hemingway cats, are not actually a breed, but are genetically deformed. The US Department of Agriculture has decided that the museum no longer represents one of our most beloved writers, but has become a cat exhibition.
What do they want? To impose regulations and charge fees. What else? A veterinarian visits each year to administer shots. It’s hard to get all of them, since after the vet pops one, he tells the rest and they’re nowhere to be found.
Don’t confuse cat hoarders with those above. Animal Hoarding is a mental illness, which is bad for the animals and people involved. The above people simply love cats. When I look in the mirror, I see The Crazy Cat Lady hiding inside me. I love cats and have cried at a few cat funerals. I dare say I will again.