interlude: cats

i am convinced that the cats operate under a science-fiction soap-opera dichotomy. gato, the dumb one, sidles up to curry, the smart, street-savvy calico, and sniffs at her face. recoiling in disgust, she paws at him in total disdain and he withdraws, shame-faced. he returns to staring at the things which move, or the things which make a lot of noise and could, thereby, be threatening. brings new meaning to the phrase "fraidy-cat."

it's just like the oafish thug who serves as the comic relief and the sharp captain who secretly loves his brutish ways btu who scorns him in the presence of others. sometimes gato & curry sleep on the same hemisphere of the bed, curled up near, but not too near, to one another, eyes closed, breathing in tandem. he's a bit of a hedonistic glutton, though, only living for the next jaw-scratch or the next tail-yank. curry is best described as aloof, and is yet tortured by gato every time the food happens in the early morning. we have to separate their dishes, else gato (who wolfs down his food with the vigor that only the starving have) will turn to her and stare at her while she nibbles and masticates delicately. it might have something to do with her significant lank of teeth that causes her to eat so cautiously, but gato never has been sympathetic to her disabilities, and will often chase her rambunctiously through the house, as though he were a dog in a cat's body. the more i think about it, gato is probably the world's first feline to exhibit symptoms of a species dysmorphia. perhaps he should get an operation. i wonder if he'll chase tennis balls. or frisbees. i've heard he's pretty crazy around those laser pointers.