Pets and Pet Peeves

I have decided that, at least of late, the quality of my life has been reflected by the number of kitty cats surrounding me.

About four months ago, my life was devoid of cats (with the exception of the insane monsters that live at Darlene's house, but those hardly reflect happiness). Then, on a bike ride home one day, I was met with the loudest yowl I've heard in ages. YOOOOWL, YOOOOWL. It pierced the air, and I stopped to see if I could find and help the cat, which must have been seriously injured.

Instead, an adorable little fluff ball presented itself to me, coming up to where I had stopped and rubbing itself on my legs. It looked up at me. YOOOOWL.

I don't know the cat's name, but we'll call it Poodle. This is not the cat. This is an image I found
on Google image search and stole. But this is what Poodle looks like.

Poodle then tried to get me to follow him/her into his/her house, turning to YOOOOWL at me every foot or so, but, as cute as he/she is, I didn't. I've seen Poodle numerous times since, but he/she's never made as much noise as the first time. He/she was my first neighborhood cat-friend.

Some weeks later, I met Corey's cat, a beautiful grey/brown/reddish tabby. She bit me. It turns out, she bites everyone until they figure out just how to pet her. Her name is Iris, and it turns out she's quite a friendly little cat.

She looks like this, but even prettier. I also stole this image.

I had gone from 0 cat friends to two in almost no time, but I wasn't done yet. The next cat was also absolutely fabulous, and entirely gorgeous. She's a long-haired black and white cat named Lola who lives near my complex. She's super friendly and likes to roll in the dirt.

I stole THIS one from the BBC.

Last night, as I was leaving my apartment to head to Corey's, a mighty fine, short-haired black cat met me in the parking lot, escorting me to my car. Totally lovable, she sported a sophisicated leopard print color with matching bell, but no name tag (however, leopard print means I assume the cat is a she). I'll call her Panther.Like this, but with two eyes.

This morning, as I was leaving Corey's, I finally met his neighbor's cat, which has a name that I can't remember, so I won't rename it. It is also very sweet, and also likes to roll in the dirt.

Not really like this cat, but sort of. Kind of.

I am quite happy right now, and I think that the number-of-cat-friends index is a good indicator of happiness. In any case, there seems to be a very strong correlation--and to further support this, there were no cats present anywhere on Friday night.

There were also no cats present this morning when some twat on a mountain bike got in front of me at the stoplight. Granted, perhaps he thought that the fact that I was road biking with a cup of coffee would slow me down sufficiently that he would be faster than I would be, but this was entirely foolish.

Now, there are lots of people who ride mountain bikes around seriously who know how to the ride. Many of these people have better bicycles than I do, and are more experienced bicycle riders. Additionally, I have never seen any of them riding with cups of coffee. All of these factors make it entirely possible that the bicycle rider would be much faster than I am.

However, none of these factors applied to this twat, who appeared to still be learning how to use his gears correctly. It drives me nuts when people who suck at bicycle riding don't even know that they suck at bicycle riding, like the girl riding down Cesar Chavez a couple weeks ago, changing lanes without looking backwards over her shoulder. In any case, I was forced to (even more dangerously) remanuever past this twat while holding my coffee and avoiding the pot holes which are endemic at 38th and Speedway.



Then a guy on an expensive mountain bike who seriously knew how to ride it passed both of us.