Lupita named the stray i've been feeding 'bitchez,' mainly because she's several cats in one, but also so we could say things like 'whassup my bitchez!' or '...hold on, gotta feed my bitchez,' and 'pregnant-ass bitchez be hangin out on my porch for a month, crying fo food and attention, looking fo protection from dem pussies that hang out in my 'hood.' i've accepted it as a nickname because it's an excuse to bust into inner city colloquial (while i find speaking the language to be amusing, i consider the term 'ebonics' to be offensive, bigoted and generally inaccurate). i address the cat as bitchez when Lupe is around and sometimes when she's not, but in our time alone, i've discovered that the cat's real name is actually Chairman Meow Zedong, and in the last month, she's eaten as well as, if not better than i have. she was quite pregnant when i left for the annual family reunion on friday, and i predicted that she'd drop kittens while i was away. not knowing where she sleeps or if she has a safe place, i intended to waterproof a cardboard box and leave a small home for her out on my porch, but never got around to it. i returned last night, and now it's tuesday afternoon and i haven't seen her. normally, the sound of my storm door slamming shut and the metallic click of my zippo will summon her from wherever she hangs out when she's not on my porch.
i'm as concerned as i'll allow myself to be.
i understand cat-love, and that's what makes me not a true cat lover (that and the fact that i'm allergic). yeah, they're sweet and all, but they're all out for themselves when it comes down to it--self-serving hedonists, for the most part. cats, upon being allowed to live in a person's home are no longer pets, but masters who merely tolerate their human help; they'll shit on the bed if things aren't up to par. dogs and even pot-bellied pigs have been known to stand guard and to try to find help when their masters die. cats in the same situation suddenly find themselves with too much food. i avoid people like that, but i'll tolerate a pet version of it. still, i hope she's ok, hope bitchez comes back.
i'm as concerned as i'll allow myself to be.
i understand cat-love, and that's what makes me not a true cat lover (that and the fact that i'm allergic). yeah, they're sweet and all, but they're all out for themselves when it comes down to it--self-serving hedonists, for the most part. cats, upon being allowed to live in a person's home are no longer pets, but masters who merely tolerate their human help; they'll shit on the bed if things aren't up to par. dogs and even pot-bellied pigs have been known to stand guard and to try to find help when their masters die. cats in the same situation suddenly find themselves with too much food. i avoid people like that, but i'll tolerate a pet version of it. still, i hope she's ok, hope bitchez comes back.