Honor Learns A Life Lesson; Rick Perry Still A Prick

 

So. I was just doing some bloggie maintenance, responding to the comments and emails resulting from yesterday’s offer for free books. I was responding to A Daft Scots Lass when Honor the cat dropped a sparrow at my feet. A dead sparrow, and one that looked as if a cat had played with it to death. Played-with-it-to-death? Maybe I’d want to hyphenate those words to properly display my intent.

The little birdie was soaked with cat slobber and it had the appearance of a badminton shuttlecock that had been used for a five-set professional tennis match. The little tailless Siamese sat like a proud daughter presenting an all-A’s Report Card to her father as her gift for Father’s Day

“What’s this, little lady?” I asked when she dropped the slimy bird bundle on, not beside, my foot.

Honor mewled and meowed excitedly, rambling for a good three minutes. I heard how she was just walking through the orchard, the trees in which are not liking the latest effect of Global Warming, and she was looking for a piece of ripe fruit to bring to the breakfast table. We encourage every diner to contribute to each meal here to the ranch. Somehow when everyone does a little something, the food tastes better and a better time is had by all.

Anyway, she was walking the orchard in search of fallen fruit when the sparrow caught her eye. He was flitting from tree-to-tree on the low-hanging branches in the cherry tree section.

“It was sooo weird, Mooner,” the short haired cat told me. Like a South African person saying their country’s name, the words were spilling out of her mouth. “I was walking along, minding my own business, and when I caught sight of the sparrow it was like something hit me. Remember when you told me about when you were struck by lightening?”

Have you ever noticed how South Africans say their country’s name? “Sowafrika,” they’ll say as fast as I say, “Quilt.” It’s a speed talk dealie that makes no sense to me. This is what I was telling the Daft Scots Lass when the bird hit my foot.

Anyway, Honor’s eye was caught by the flitting sparrow, “And then something came over me and I hunted him down and we played “Tag, you’re It” and then he stopped breathing.”

“Those were your instincts, little lady. Instincts are powerful internal controls that take over operations in our brains. Nothing we can do about our instincts except learn and recognize when they are at play,” I told her. Then I hastily added, “And we always do the right thing when our instincts cause us to fuck up.”

I could tell right away that Honor was confused with the fuck up part. “Look, sweetie, it’s alright for you to hunt birds. You are, after all, a fucking cat. It’s what you do.”

She looked at me with her adorable slanted eyes and asked, “OK, so what did I do wrong?”

“Good question. You’ve done nothing wrong, but remember when we went fishing the first time and I told you that we have to eat anything we kill?”

“Yes,” she meowed.

“Well, that sparrow is deader than a door nail.”

Since sparrows are lean on the meat, I sent her off to catch some more for dinner. They’ll be messy to clean, and Gram will bitch about the bones, but I’ll grill them with mesquite wood smoke. Cleaning them is a double bitch, but I might as well teach the cat to prepare her kills for the table. Sparrows are more trouble to eat than crawfish and far less rewarding.

Which reminds me. Did you guys hear that little Ricky Perry is having lower lumbar surgery? They’re having to make repairs from him patting himself on the back so much. That is the most vain-glorious mother fucker on the face of the earth.

Oh well, he’s soon to be the country’s problem, not just mine. Makes me want to crack a cold Carta Blanca beer. Manana, y’all.

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2 Responses to “Honor Learns A Life Lesson; Rick Perry Still A Prick”

  1. Squatlo says:

    Lumbar repairs needed for patting himself on the back too much… I’m not sure I’ve read a funnier line this week.

    I’d say ol’ Rick would toot his own horn if he could reach it.

  2. admin says:

    Squat. Thank you vey much. Try the veal. I’m just glad the silly little fucker is spending time out of state.

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