maleficentmoi

We once had a cat named Simon. He wore a grey tuxedo and was borderline schizophrenic. We lost him due to unfortunate circumstances ('lost' as in 'lost', not 'dead'). He's sorely missed, due to his unique personality. In fact, he's been gone for over a year now. Little fucker, I thought you were so cool... I painted a watercolor that featured Simon prominently, and I think my wife liked it only because of that aspect (she's in the painting, too, but feels I made her look like a man; ouch!). Anyway, let me get to Gilbert now. This cat, Gilbert, was a replacement to Simon in my wife's heart. She loved Simon the most and was, in effect, that fool's benefactor; she pulled him from the cardboard box of free kittens. Anyway, soon after losing Simon to the wilderness of downtown Sacramento, we got a beautiful cat named Gus, who sports long grey, black, and white fur and crossed eyes. I love the boy, but my wife never took such a shine to him. So, later still, and against common sense for a one bedroom apartment, we rescued another cat from a litter and dubbed him Gilbert, whom my wife took a particular shine to. To get to the point faster, I didn't like the shit. He just seemed... I don't know, stoned all the time. Also, he's a red cat, somewhat similar to my beloved Goat. So, as time has passed in Simon's absence, Gilbert really hasn't made much of an impression upon me... until recently. The cat, I have determined, is mad. Naturally, a mental disorder makes Gilbert immediately endearing to me. How do I know that Gilbert's mad? He does things... Weird things. Just now, while wasting time on my computer, Gilbert sprang for the window sill. While this may seem natural for an indoor cat to do, consider this: the blinds were down and drawn closed. The fruit was taking a blind stab for the sill and completely failed. First, he crashed through the blinds, scaring the shit out of me. Second, he bonked his head on the closed window. Third, he knocked a Betty Boop "No Smoking" sign down from the sill (it's metal, so it really dropped fast). Fourth, the sign dropped onto an oscillating fan, knocking it over. Fifth, Gilbert fell onto his back (!) after bonking his head and scattered like a bumble bee out of the room, colliding with Gus, whom he'd freaked. Yeah... Gilbert seems to be lacking something in the grey matter area. Common sense, maybe? I don't know. Periodically he'll assault Gus and then go on a freak-out spree to end all freak-outs. He still mostly looks stoned and has this belief that his masters are both blind and gullible. When we kick him out of the bedroom he sneaks immediately back in. Then, when we yell at him, he freezes like he believes we're fucking t-rexes from "Jurassic Park". Well, I guess what I'm getting at through all of this is that I still miss Simon, but Gilbert, in his own stupid way, is finally starting to validate his existence to me, his benefactor once removed. And that, I believe, is a good thing.

Oh, here's the painting I did of Simon and my wife (the man, apparently):