Monday, October 25, 2010

Why is my cat reading such filth?

I just retrieved this book from Chip's room (also known as the cardboard box he claimed last year after my husband and I made a whirlwind NYC-Morgantown-NYC trip to collect some stuff  from his childhood home) and would like to know why my cat is creeping around reading purportedly anthropological accounts of pervy sex crimes.

I mean, he's a cat, for God's sake. As those of us who've read Saki's Tobermory know, cats are wise to everything everyone is 
doing all the time, what with their skulking around under beds and behind doors and inside closets. So it's not as though Chip needs to study what folks get up to. And much though I love him, there's a reason Chip has a frat-boy name: He isn't exactly what you'd call a feline intellectual. In fact, he's pretty damned dumb... but he knows about the bishop and the actress.

3 comments:

buddy said...

i didn't want to say, but will, i always thought Chip was a bit of a perv, but we love him!

lister said...

I'd blame the stains on the mattress on Chip. I mean, really...

miss flickchick said...

Trust me, I blame everything on Chip.