Grand Rapids....come for the churches, stay for the Nascar and Deer Hunting.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
The better half?
I don't ever match my socks up in pairs because it is a waste of time. I keep them in a big basket next to the dryer and every morning I go to the basement to get my socks for the day. When the basket is empty, that is a signal that I should probably do more laundry.
This morning I went to the basement to get my socks and at the bottom of the basement steps was half of a baby squirrel. Specifically, the back half. Tail?...check, hind legs?...check, abdomen?...check, Head shoulders chest and front legs...houston...we have a problem.
I tried not to think about how my cute fat cat spent the better part of the wee morning hours chopping a baby squirrel in half with almost surgical precision. I couldn't stop thinking about the rest of the squirrel though. Where is the freakin head? Do cats actually eat squirrel skull bones? WTF. And trust me, I've looked all around the basement.
The only place I didn't check was under the treadmill, and now I'm thinking that when Cheryl gets home to do her afternoon workout she's going to get that treadmill up to a certain speed and this baby squirrel head is going to shoot across the basement and splat into a wall making some kind of Ralph Steadmanesque illustration that no amount of Kilz paint will cover up.
And here's the thing that really bugs me: who the hell eats the head and chest and arms when you've got the ass and thighs and legs and such. I think of pigs and cows and I'm going for the meaty sections. Can you imagine trying to get to the good meat of a cow skull? It just seems to me as though my cat does not understand which part of the animal is the best, and being the culinary snob that I am, this upsets me.
And it's only wednesday.
One more thing: how the flip did a baby squirrel get in the house? Since I personally let Merlin in and out, I'm pretty sure I would have noticed had he traipsed up the front steps with a squirrel dangling from his mouth.
In other news: Today has been a good music day on itunes. I did the random shuffle thing and it threw together a pretty good morning mix.
Among the songs I would suggest you all give a listen to, and perhaps purchase would be:
Do you trust me? - Blanche Better Way - Ben Harper Iroquois St. Factory - Melissa McClelland When We Say Goodnight - Jonah Smith Smile - David Gilmour Pink Champagne - Venus Hum Fuzzy Freaky - David Byrne Relating to a Psychopath - Macy Gray
One more thing about music and then I've gotta go for the day. Podcasts. For those of you who don't know, they are essentially "programs" that you can download to your computer or MP3 player and then listen to at your leisure. Lots of people and organizations and shows have podcasts, but I'm addicted to one that I get on itunes called Coverville. This guy does these shows and they're nothing but cover songs. Check out the 2005 best of podcast to hear CAKE do a fantastic rendition of the classic disco hit "I will survive" (gloria gaynor maybe?) The episode devoted to Neil Diamond is truly spectacular, and you haven't lived until you hear the easy listening version of Sir Mix-a-lots "Baby got Back." Hearing the lyrics "cause I'm long and I'm strong and I'm down to get the friction on" while banjos and violins and guitars are gently playing in the background is quite a treat. (That would be coverville episode 163 for those of you who check this out. It's toward the end of the episode, but the whole thing is worth listening to).
I would like to reassure you that Merlin, while not a culinary snob, knows exactly what he's doing.
Among cats who actually eat prey, as opposed to simply torturing it to death before playing floor hockey with the corpse until some pathetic human slave cleans it up, it is common practice to start at the head and work down. My theory is that it is the cat's goal to maximize nutrition, while minimizing calories, and maintaining a preferred level of freshness.
Organ protein (such as brains and hearts) contains more protein per ounce, as well as more iron, than the filet we would expect a cat to prefer. Skulls and upper vertabrae are richer in calcium than coccyges or philanges.
Most cats, unless they're starving, will refuse to eat the tails of most rodents. By the time they've done all that delicious crunching, the tail is just so much overcooked calamari. Who needs it?
By the way, I have never met a cat who was able to eat more than half a baby squirrel before its expiration date. I'msure Merlin gave it his best shot!
We had a sock box when I was a kid, I still remember that damned thing. Full of sock it was, I say sock because their were probably close to three hundred sock in there, and never a real pair of socks. Probably why I loathed the damned thing. I used to dream of pure pairs of pristine socks, without holes and stains, that, miracle of miracles actually have a mate that they belong too.
Now I have a sock sack, and it is just as pitiful as the sock box mom had. I sit down and sort them with the foolish hopes of finding mates. I usually attack the sock sack when I have managed to do up ALL of the laundry, foolishly thinking, it’s all clean, so hey, there have GOT to be some mates in there.
So I sit there with my mounds of sock, searching, sorting, and usually end up with four mated pairs, max. Then I ridiculously stuff all the SOCK back into the sack, thinking to myself the entire time, wtf am I saving these for? Do I think the mates are going to somehow show up the next time I have all the laundry done? And still I save them.
I’m thinking I may need to donate them to my son’s elementary art class, for puppets.
Interesting tidbit - the lead singer for Blanche used to live in my house (before me). He wrote "Garbage Picker" about the white trash that live next door still.
As far as the squirrel goes, I am always amazed at the abject cruelty I've seen my cat do to mice who made their wat into our house, before presenting me with them as gifts. It's like she takes it as a personal affront that they intrude on her territory, and she is going to send them into the afterlife slowly and painfully as punishment, then deliver me the pieces to show how she handles the homestead for me. She's like my own little fat fuzzy sadistic security force.
As far as the socks go, I match them for thickness, not color.
...you haven't lived until you hear the easy listening version of Sir Mix-a-lots "Baby got Back."
Jonathan,
Ah, that would be the Jonathan Coulton version of the Sir Mix-A-Lot classic.
I've been a huge Coulton fan since I came across that song. He just finished "Thing-A-Week", coming up with 52 gems of pure pop goodness. I recommend it highly. Hell, even when I'm not high I recommend it. He just compiled all his Thing-A-Weeks into CDs available on the site, or you can download most of it for freeness at jonathancoulton.com.
Name: Jonathan Home: Grand Rapids, Michigan, United States About Me: Just a guy who trying to eek out a living as a graphic designer in SW Michigan. See my complete profile
Name: Jonathan
I would like to reassure you that Merlin, while not a culinary snob, knows exactly what he's doing.
Among cats who actually eat prey, as opposed to simply torturing it to death before playing floor hockey with the corpse until some pathetic human slave cleans it up, it is common practice to start at the head and work down. My theory is that it is the cat's goal to maximize nutrition, while minimizing calories, and maintaining a preferred level of freshness.
Organ protein (such as brains and hearts) contains more protein per ounce, as well as more iron, than the filet we would expect a cat to prefer. Skulls and upper vertabrae are richer in calcium than coccyges or philanges.
Most cats, unless they're starving, will refuse to eat the tails of most rodents. By the time they've done all that delicious crunching, the tail is just so much overcooked calamari. Who needs it?
By the way, I have never met a cat who was able to eat more than half a baby squirrel before its expiration date. I'msure Merlin gave it his best shot!