Confessions of a Horny Old Codger

This is Cat. Yes, original name I know. My mom named him after Holly Golightly's orange tabby named Cat in the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's, a favorite of hers. Cat was hers first. I was getting ready to move out of her house after college and I was taking my cat with. I told her she was going to miss having an animal around and she should get her own cat.

She picked him up from some house where the family cat had gotten knocked up, "free to good home" the ad said. Of course, me, sappy sucker that I am, totally monopolized this new kitten and got very attached. When I moved, I was bummed to leave him behind. A few days after I had settled into my house I got a phone call from my mom.

“Do you miss Cat?”
“Yes.” (sniffle)
“Do you want to take him?”
“Yes.” (hesitant, she might be teasing me, she does this some times)
“When do you want to come get him?”
“I'll be over in ten minutes.”

That's motherhood for you. I convince her to get a cat, she really likes this cat but she let's me have him because she knows I miss him and am feeling a bit unanchored living away from home for the first time.

In this photo, Cat is lounging on his favorite blanket. He also masturbates with this blanket. I know some of you must be thinking a cat, masturbating? Really? Oh yeah. He bites a corner of the blanket in his mouth, gets the blanket all bunched up, does the kneading thing with his paws that cats do and then his kitty wanker comes out and he does a few pelvic thrusts until he gets bored or frustrated(he is fixed) and goes to sleep. Kind of like my husband---just kidding honey.

The thing is, this is also my favorite blanket, it was made for me by my great grandmother about twenty years ago. (Yes, I let my cat desicrate a treasured object knitted my my great grannies very own hands.) So when he gets 'in the mood' often he will find his blanket covering my legs while I watch tv or read a book. No problem for him, he is happy to share. Now maybe it's laziness or apathy or I'm just so used to it but I rarely stop him when he's doing it. A few times I've kicked him off me because his claws are poking through the blanket into my feet or legs. I think its also just unconscious, I'm so used to his horniness I don't even notice anymore.

So it was funny when my now husband, then boyfriend was over and we were snuggling on the couch, blanket over us when cat came by to do his thing. I think my husband just thought he was going to curl up between us and go to sleep but after awhile he realized something else was going on.


"What's he doing," he asked curiously.
"Oh, he's humping the blanket."
"Ew," he says and his feet go randomly kicking into the air until cat is thrown from the blanket.
"Blech, you let him do that?"
"Uh, no?"

Cat is about 12 years old now. He has come to love the noisy, grabby additions to our household. He gets twice daily medication to control his overactive thyroid and protect his heart. I administer this medication and I will tell you, it's a testament of the love I have for this animal. He is the last attachment I have to childhood. I wasn't technically a child when I got him but I was still living with my mother and not yet on my own in any real way. He moved into my first home with me. Then he moved across country with me. We lost one of our best friends together(the other older cat I had). He was there when I was on my own, and then when I met my husband, opened the spa, had my kids, bought our family home. And yes, even in his old age, he still makes sweet sweet love to his blanket at least once a day.

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3 comments:

scatterbrain said... June 24, 2008 at 6:30 AM  

Eew! But I like the name. I'm thinking of naming my dog, Cat.

Spatula said... June 24, 2008 at 7:14 AM  

Ha-ha! That's the spirit, Cat! What better way to honour a granny's blanket than by making sweet humpy love to it?

And you totally meant it when you compared him to your husband. Admit it.

Formerly Fun said... June 24, 2008 at 8:44 AM  

scatterbrain-
the only bad thing about a name like that is if they get lost. Cat got outside once and I scoured the neighborhood with a can of his favorite food looking for him. I kept calling him, "Cat?" "Cat?", this is when I lived in a more urban area so there were always people mulling around. They looked at me like, crazy lady, if you want a cat just go to the shelter and get one. I don't think they realized I was looking for a particular cat.

spatula-
maybe

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