A Meow and Bork Cantina

By Wetdryvac

This book brought to you by request, by those who've been reading my morning-addled stage-direction styled burbles about the household animals. Seriously. When it comes time to blame someone, blame them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716144394

Wetdryvac

Wetdryvac: A non-gendered mechanical contrivance designed specifically for interactions with humans driven by preconception, with the thus-far successful goal of rendering such preconceptions wompsie-sideways. Currently operating out of New England, wetdryvac.net, and similarly friendly locales.

Book preview

A Meow and Bork Cantina

A Meow And Bork Cantina

This is a largely a work of non-fiction. All events portrayed herein actually happened. More or less.

Copyright © 2020 by Wetdryvac

Foreword

Once upon a few months back, there was a request that I collect my writings, set in stage play style for the cats and puddle, into a book. This is that attempt. A two-year span is covered, more or less, and I still remain baffled that these little pieces of daily life remain as popular as they do.

Many thanks the folks who requested this strange little thing. Each of you makes my writing life a little bit easier.

Cast of Characters

Me: The Vac, or Wetdryvac, your author and scribe.

Dizzy Calico Doom Fluff: An elder cat possessed of inner ear damage, with no balance whatsoever. Quite cheerful about life all the same.

Captain Orange Murder Pants: Cat, exactly as described. Also known as Helping Orange Murder.

The Ex-Feral Meow: The unexpected acquisition, a lovely creature of death, gradually more interactive over time. Our story-like object comes in about a year into their residency.

Calico Doom Flounce: Or, any calico referenced without Dizzy in the name, a lovely meow of great running about and chewing on things.

The Puddle: A 13.5 pound poodle who’s convinced they’re a standard, a bird, and a cat all in one. Tendency to roll in everything.

The Pieces

A surprise first from the Ex-Feral Meow: Sitting in bed reading, more or less under the usual cat pile. EFM hops up, and instead of lying on the corner with easy exit paths all around, examines the pile of cats and carefully walks up the bed. Between the cat pile and the wall. Lies down by my knees. Goes to sleep. Yep, that's a cat adapted to the herd well enough to willingly box themselves in and sleep. This, right here, makes all the work worthwhile. 'course, now my legs are asleep, and I'm pretty sure when I move, they're going to explode awake and bolt for the hills.

Me: *test wiggles*

Me: *cramps up*

Me: *moves legs to where the cat pile isn't crushing*

Holy pants. Relaxed EFM wake-up, stretch, and back to sleep. WIN!

Dog cramp: The cramp resulting from being under dog for too long. Similar to cat cramp, but in this case involving more puddle gas. Must remember not to leave the egg-a-kraut on the desk now that the dog bed is at desk height.

Me: *sighs, lets puddle out for the 34th time on the day*

Ex-Feral Meow: I would like a lap. Lift me up?

Me: *does so*

EFM: And some scritches, yes.

Me: *does so*

EFM: More. And all over.

Me: *does so*

EFM: *rolls in ecstasy, leaves lap upside down, totally fails the cat landing on feet thing, barks like a dog*

Puddle: *explodes from deep sleep at sound, steps into open air off the raised dog bed, lands upside down on EFM, barks somewhat more convincingly like a dog*

EFM: *from under puddle* HELP ME! THE SKY FELL!

EFM and Puddle: *bolt into the distance*

Shorthand: Myark! Ba-Bork-Myark! Myowl!

Me: *still laughing*

EFM *walking back in as I'm writing* That never happened. I would like a lap. Lift me up?

Client: I need a flute.

Me: You can probably find one on ebay without hiring me. Are you sure you want my help? What I know about flutes is very limited.

Client: I hate the internet.

Me: OK. I'll price you out a flute and set up the purchase for you.

Client: Thank-you.

Two minutes later...

Me: Well that was odd, but at least it's a quick job.

Two minutes later...

Ebay: Category, flute. Here, have a *censored* ton of kazoos.

Me: *cracks knuckles*

Me: Challenge accepted.

Mr. Orange Helping Murder: *climbs shoulder*

Me: Oh, hi there MOHM.

MOHM: *flips upside down into my arms*

Me: *snuggles MOHM for a bit, goes back to work* Minutes later...

MOHM: *climbs shoulder*

Me: *mostly ignores MOHM because working*

MOHM: *flips upside down without checking for arms*

Me: *eeps, watches MOHM go by*

MOHM: *executes a perfect self-arrest on my nipple*

Me: *no-realy-EEPS this time*

MOHM: *panics, since I've grabbed their paw to avoid further injury*

Me: *scruffs MOHM, tries to figure out detachment method, bleeds*

MOHM: I am scruffed. I am calm. You smell good.

Me: *politely sets MOHM down, grabs glue, cleans wound site, considers putting in a ring*

Me: *keeps bleeding despite a good cleaning and styptic powder*

Me: *leaves shirt off, mutters bad words, goes back to work*

MOHM: *climbs shoulder, flips off other side, misses stabbing me on the way by, and makes a blork sort of a noise as they whack into the floor*

Me: See? That's why you check first.

Me: *bleeds, gets distracted by potential trade*

Half an hour later...

MOHM: *making happy nomming noises on the floor*

Me: What on earth are you...?

MOHM: *looks up from the small puddle*

Me: You sausage! No eating me, even if I'm done with that part. We've had this discussion.

Yep. Distracted by trade, I guess I'll just be my very own personal bio-hazard.

Me: *bleaches the hell out of the area*

Just as I'm typing now...

MOHM: *climbs shoulder, stabs other side on the way by*

Me: *sad profanity* At least this time it was the elbow the daftness self arrested on.

Ex-Feral Meow: *steps very carefully onto my lap from the cat bed next to me*

EFM: Me...o...o....?

EFM: *gazes blankly into distance*

Me: Well, hello there.

Me: *skritches EFM*

EFM: *flinches, hisses, sits down*

Me: You OK?

EFM: *turns very carefully, steps back onto cat bed*

Process repeats twice, by which point I'm getting somewhat concerned, as this is decidedly not normal behavior. Fourth time...

EFM: Me...

Me: *reaches in suddenly, and starts skritching vigorously*

EFM: *purrs equally vigorously, passes out in lap*

Me: *eyes EFM dubiously, notes flecks of green*

Me: How did you...

Me: *leans over, discovers open, mostly empty catnip container that's been dragged into cat bed and hidden in the corner*

Last I checked, that catnip container was on a shelf five feet up the wall. Alas, I now have the world's highest ex-feral in my lap having paranoid nip-dreams - horrifying growls and kitten yips included. It's moments like this that I remember I too am a fairly efficient predator.

Me: *attack-scruffs EFM*

EFM: *instantly rigid, stops growling into my crotch*

Me: *grabs rug, stuffs rug between vitals and doom*

Me: *releases EFM to newly safe-to-me bed*

EFM: Mewgle?

Me: *vigorously skritches the now cross-eyed doom*

EFM: *passes out happily, returns to dream-growls*

Note to self: DO NOT MAX-LOAD EFM, UPON PAIN OF PAIN. Yep, that's the cutest doom that ever doomed, and I sincerely hope the rug is thick enough.

Captain Orange Murder Pants: *jumps onto already full lap, likewise covered in nip-flakes*

EFM: *mewgles, bites the air, regains senses enough to lick COFB once, passes back out*

COMP: *purrs, passes out on EFM*

My legs: *now asleep too* Me: *doomed*

Huh. Maybe the catnip mainlining was good for the ex-feral. Did my usual scoop-to-upside-down for snuggles and they're definitely much more comfy with sudden motion in that regard. The super nifty is that they hung out until my arms got tired and then, instead of wandering off, went from upside down in arms to sacked out on lap on top of Captain Orange Murder Pants with no transitional stage. Both cats happy there until my legs went to sleep and I had to evict 'em.

Me: *uses upside-down tummy cuddles - it's super effective*

Me: OK, meows. Your job today is to keep each other entertained while I get this replacement machine up and running.

All the cats: *lurk in the background in perfect silence for a full hour, just sitting and watching*

Me: *eyes cats, checks food and water, provides skritches*

All the cats: *lurk in the background in perfect silence for another full hour, just sitting and watching*

Me: *starting to become concerned*

All the cats: *lurk in the background in perfect silence for yet another full hour, just sitting and watching*

Me: *wanders off to make art and recover sanity*

Me: *comes back in* All the cats: *sniffing and pawing the computer*

Me: What the ever-loving...

Captain Orange Murder Pants: *wallops the hell out of the computer to precisely zero effect* Other cats: *growling*

Me: *powers down computer in the middle of whatever it was doing*

All the cats: *relax*

Me: *pops open case, replaces fan*

Me: *turns on computer*

All the cats: *visibly go on alert and then relax and go about their business*

Me: Not a fan of that... no, never mind. Maybe someone will need a cat-trauma device?

Me: *tosses it in trash*