Obviously the most obnoxious stunts that cats do regularly involve stuff that should go into a litterbox being deposited somewhere else, but the next tier after that is the move where they walk close by you, let you know they are there, and then don’t let you pet them. Both of my mom’s cats will meow when they enter a room, they will make a bee-line to where you are, and then they will ignore you hardcore. It’s the worst.
I think part of the reason why I find it so frustrating is that it breaks the unspoken social contract between a person and a pet, which basically says that a person is allowed to pet the pet when they want to. As a full grown man I understand that life is not fair, but it still galls me to see these worthless jerks flaunt the rules so blatantly. And it doesn’t help that both of them are such massively bellied fat cats that picking them up when you are lying down is uncomfortable. Their bulk means that when they are at hand but won’t voluntarily jump onto your lap you have to exert extra energy to grab them in a particularly uncomfortable way, only to have the cat jump off your lap in thirty seconds.
It really makes me miss my own cat. True, since I’m her owner I probably have fewer problems petting her than other people might, but in general she likes being petted more than these portly bastards do. If anything I have to pet her more than I want to. It’s a better class of problem. I wish there was some sort of cat obedience school I could send them to which would train them to be more like my cat, with fewer litterbox related problems and a better understanding of what they need to do to earn the kibble they’ve been getting.
Anyway, Alan Partridge is pretty funny and I liked it well enough. It’s a British movie where an egotistical snot who isn’t as smart as he thinks he is keeps putting his foot in his mouth. I’m sure if I saw this movie in a different mood – one where I was not so preoccupied with getting these emotionally withdrawn bastards over to my side – I’d have formed some sort of concrete opinion on what makes Steve Coogan so fitted for this sort of work, or why the British are so hung up on lampooning a specific type of pompous ass, but because I was so distracted by temptation when I was watching it I can only offer you a brief, vague review and a few tidbits about some bad cats.