One of the best things about being a grown up is getting to do all the things that, as a child, you thought would be totally awesome to do as an adult.
Pizza and popcorn for breakfast? Check. Buying underwear so you can avoid laundry? Double check. Ice cream whenever you want it? Check. Playing with matches? Beer? Fireworks? Check! Check! Check! (But not together – that’s just dangerous)
And for anyone who has ever read a novel or seen a movie that included a witch, sorcerer or some sort of magical person with an animal companion—you’ve wanted to try one more thing:
Train your cat to perch on your shoulder.
Don’t deny it. I know you’ve all considered it. I’ve considered it.
Alas, my childhood dream was shattered today. Practice trumped theory.
This morning my dear cat, Oscar Jellybean Yoda Esq. (Yes, that is his name) decided to wander around my apartment horking up a few hairballs. He had also just scarfed down a ton of food. So that was coming up as well.
Best start to a Monday morning. Ever.
The JBster wasn’t all that impressed either. I think he was sad. I was sitting on my bed, putting on my socks when he crawled up onto my lap for some reassurance. Then he crawled up around my neck and twisted himself around, like a nice warm scarf.
It was pretty cute. He was rumbling in my ear. I didn’t even mind the smell of cat food on his breath. Since my laptop was nearby, I grabbed it to document the event because “Hey cool! I have my own familiar. Finally … I AM A MAGICIAN! FEAR MY POWERRRRRRRRRR“
Normally, when he gets this cuddly (Which is often – JB is pretty much the biggest suck in the history of cats), he’ll soon get tired and run off. He’s easily distracted, much like his owner. Shiny!
Except … he didn’t.
He sat there, continued purring.
And soon settled in for a nap.
So I found myself putting on the other sock with a “familiar” wrapped around my shoulders. Brushing my teeth with a “familiar” wrapped around my shoulders. Putting on my boots with a “familiar” wrapped around my shoulders.
He wouldn’t budge.
At this point I regretted feeding JB all that premium super nutritious high quality cat food since kittenhood. It was like fertilizer that made my little kitten grow into a gargantuan bean of a cat. A heavy bean who was now hanging around my neck. Albatross style.
And it was also at this point that I realized that my ambition to have a cat as a familiar perched diligently on my shoulders would probably result in the ruination of my spine and posture.
So a part of my childhood dreams have now died, but it was quite lovely while it lasted. And at least I still have beer and ice cream.
Unless … hey, anyone know a good chiropractor?