In which my cat lets me know I can’t sing

Yeah. I’m gonna blog a bit about one of my cats. Baby Mae to be exact. She happens to be my favorite. And yes, I have a favorite cat. I love them all, but she’s my favorite cuzz she loves me back. Not like the rest of those bitches that follow Greg around like he’s the greatest thing ever.

No, I’m not bitter.

Anyway. Baby Mae is kind of a peculiar cat. She hardly ever meows. Or purrs. In fact, it’s rare that she makes ANY noise at all, which is kinda awesome, but full of suck sometimes, too. Like when she got closed into the closet and we couldn’t find her for hours? Yeah. If she’d have just opened her damn mouth and meowed, everything would have been cool.

So, Baby’s weird. She has this thing where if she wants you to pet her, she’ll nip at you. Ok, so she only does that to Greg, but it’s still weird. If he’s sitting at the computer, she’ll bite his elbow until he pets her. If he’s on the couch, she’ll bite his leg. He doesn’t like it all that much, but it makes me laugh so hard I fear I might piss my pants one of these days. And that she only bites him when she wants pet makes it all the more funny cuzz it’s not me. We all know that it’s always funny when it’s not happening to you.

Now, when it comes to me, Baby is much more subtle. She wants me to pet her? She jumps in my lap or stands on my shoulder until I acknowledge her in a way she sees fit. No biting, no weird thing. Well, not too weird, I guess. The whole standing-on-my-shoulder thing is a little weird.

When it comes to loud noises, however, Baby flips her shit and becomes full of The Kitty Hate®. Thunderstorms are, by far, her biggest fear. She starts shaking and she’ll cry. There was one storm where Greg ran outside to roll up the windows in the car and she got right up on the screen door and screamed until he came back inside. Yeah, she literally screamed. It’s kinda creepy when a cat does that.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I love to sing. Always have and, I’m sure, always will. I don’t claim to be the next Whitney Houston or anything, but I can carry a tune and they seem to like me when I go to karaoke bars. I also tend to sing pretty damned loudly. There was one night when I was still living with my Becky, that I decided to drink while she was at a concert that I wanted to go to, but couldn’t for some reason or another. When I’m drinking, I’m that much more likely to sing and sing LOUD. I had an Evanescence CD playing and was singing along when someone pounded on my door. (Keep in mind that it was winter, so NO windows were open.) I opened the door and found my neighbor from across the street on my porch. He asked me to turn down my radio cuzz he could hear it in his house. He then advised me to fix the treble cuzz all he could hear was “that chick singing”. Yeah. I’m that loud sometimes.

So, after Greg left for work this morning, I sat down here at my loverly computer and went to and started listening to and posting music. (It’s a great music site and I highly recommend visiting it. You can find pretty much any music you want.) At one point, I began to sing.

That’s where you should start remembering that Baby hates loud noises.

I’m singing away and playing Bejeweled, cuzz it’s my CRACK, when Baby decided to jump up on the computer desk and put her tail in my face. I put her on the ground and continued to sing and be dominated by Bejeweled. She jumped up here again and just stared at me. You know the creepy way cats stare at people sometimes when they want something so they try to take over your mind? Or something like that. Maybe it’s just my cats.


So, Baby’s staring at me and I’m ignoring her and continuing on with everything I was doing. That’s when I remembered why Baby was staring at me like she was trying to eat my soul. I was singing and I was singing loudly. Before I could make my brain shut my mouth, so made sure I’d remember that she doesn’t think I can sing for shit.

She bit me. On my chin. She bit my fucking chin!

Now, this isn’t something new. She’s bitten my chin before when I was singing or when I was yelling at something. (I happen to yell at the TV like the people inside can hear me. It’s not weird when guys yell at the TV during sports, why is it weird that I yell at he TV regardless of what happens to be on it? Hmm?) I knew the bite was coming, but that didn’t seem to take away any of the surprise I felt when it actually happened.

I’m no longer singing. And Baby Mae? Well, she’s sleeping on the couch like she’s Queen Shit. Stupid cat not loving my loud singing voice. Maybe she’s not my favorite after all…

    • Meri
    • January 29th, 2010

    Loooove your tale of Baby Mae. I have a Darcy cat that sounds similar, she’s right in my face now cus i’m singing and playing bejeweled. Are you me?

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