Thursday, November 5, 2015
Oh yeah, you look nice now -- with your head reclined, whiskers relaxed, sporting your little raspberry nose. But come 3 am, we know, we know.
That's when you'll wander the house like Lady MacBeth. Or no, actually, you'll sound like an extra in Doctor Zhivago, after the Bolsheviks killed your baby and burned the village.
You will sing an A flat minor, holding the note for what seems to be forever. Ewowoooow. Sometimes ending with a question mark: Ewoooow? Or an exclamation point: Ewooow! But most often just ending in an ellipses: Ewowow....Ewowow...etc.
What do you want? To go outside?
--No, are you crazy? There are coyotes out there.
Then are you hungry?
--No, not particularly.
Well, do you want to chase a ball or something?
--No, I want you to understand: It's 3 am, and my heart is filled with music, mystery, opera. What I must do is sing, what you must do is listen.
Ok, so we're going to burrow under the pillows and listen to your aria that way. No offense.
--In that case, I might have to bite your toes.