I enjoy reading an engaging autobiography or biography now and again. I love the “behind the scenes” stories of celebrities and other notable individuals. Somehow, I feel more connected to them and can understand a little more about how they turned out the way they did. I remember reading my first biography in high school: It was of Nancy Spungen of the infamous Sid and Nancy duo, and I was hooked. Probably not the best work to used when discussing the divine Miss N., but let’s just say I was captivated by the rawness of it and craved more of those real-life tales of people’s roller-coaster rendezvous with life.
Cats are pretty egocentric, and I believe they’d love nothing more than to pen a self-indulgent autobiography full of all sorts of juicy bits. Here’s my take on the titles of the chapters.
Certainly there would be an extensive foreword, which would describe the journey leading up to writing the book. The author would paint a picture of a rich life, brushed with peaks and valleys of elation and disappointment, but mostly disappointment.
Cats emit a vibe of entitlement, and it would radiate from the pages of the book. Even as young kittens, they know humans exist only to serve them. In this chapter, the author would share the details of some of his proudest moments: the mice caught, the pillows stolen, and the tiniest boxes in which he’d squeezed. And he’d out the selfish humans who never supported him along the way.
Life wasn’t always a bowl of Greenies. In fact, there were some pretty painful memories, mostly involving visits to the veterinarian. The author uses this chapter to openly rage about being loaded into the carrier of incarceration; shoved into a loud, vibrating mechanical monster; and then emerging into a sterile room, where he’s poked and prodded and body parts are stolen. The tale is far more terrifying than any U.F.O. abduction account.
The baskets of warm laundry are definitely highlights of any cat’s lifetime. Some are particularly memorable: the load of fleece blankets, the sweet Egyptian cotton towels, the cushy mound of socks and underwear. The author uses vivid imagery to bring the readers into that magical laundry basket. It’s as if we are wrapped up in that cozy pair of flannel boxers.
Fabric isn’t the only type of laundry being discussed in this chapter. The author also uses these pages as a tell-all hotspot for airing the dirty laundry of the humans in his life. Here is where we find out who’s been feeding the cheap kibble, who hasn’t been scooping the litter box in a timely manner, and who walks around in their underwear.
Ah, the delicious nap. Like the laundry baskets, naps hold an especially sweet spot in a cat’s memoir. In this chapter, the author exposes the best napping spots for sun-soaked slumbers and recalls afternoons spent sprawled in front of open windows and tucked away in linen closets.
As a cat moves into the latter lives of their given nine, they become a little more cranky and intolerant of the shenanigans imposed upon them by self-centered humans. And rightfully so. The author describes the senior years with special emphasis on extended napping, the challenges of feline dental issues, being forced to wear silly clothing but feeling too tired to effectively revolt, and swat after swat at impossibly annoying children.
The author thanks the gentle readers for walking the path of remembrance with him. He hopes we learned something about his struggles and triumphs. He wants us to know that those nine lives are short and we must embrace every moment. However, we must not sell out to The Man, for he is — and always will be — far inferior in every possible way. He closes with two quotations. The first is from the immortal rapper Eminem: “The truth is, you don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. Life is a crazy ride and nothing is guaranteed.” Then, he leaves us with the wise words of Maurice, the streetwise tabby who lives down the block: “The trouble with common sense is that most people are morons.”
What chapter titles would be in your cat’s autobiography? Tell us in the comments!
About the Author: Angie Bailey is a weird girl with freckles and giant smile who wants everyone to be her friend. Loves pre-adolescent boy humor, puns, making up parody songs, and thinking about cats doing people things. Wrote a ridiculous humor book about cats wheeling and dealing online. Partner in a production company and writes and acts in comedy web series that may or may not offend people. Mother to two humans and three cats, all of which want her to make them food.
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