MJ just said, "See! I told you that's what guinea pigs do! Weee! Weee! Week!" [Like I ever wanted one?]
Now "stott" is a cool word. I will try to remember. Goes with "Boing!"? That probably caused side-splitting laughter, no?
It was about 1971. We weren't supposed to have pets in Jimmy DeMarco's house. He only came by once in a while. We were getting ready to move, honest, and had just gotten Hudson and Current, as kittens. Current was Current because these were the most motive cats we'd ever seen. Completely wired.
Jimmy was never sure what to make of the longhairs living in his house, but he tried. The furniture was worn yet wonderful; from The Fifties. Black curtains with flowers, floor lamps, deep upholstered hibiscus-pile sofa. One summer evening Jimmy showed up and we invited him in, and we stood casually in the living room trying to make small talk. We kept things clean; he was happy. Just then Hudson flips up on the arm of the sofa outta nowhere, like a rabid demon, and runs across the back cushions of the couch without ever touching the seats. Current is right behind. Not on the tops of the cushions; hanging sideways off the vertical front surfaces. Not really any hanging; they went so fast they just looked like they were running on a level, horizontal rug. A straight, lightspeed, claw-hooking, barely visible traverse. Like gravity defied by velocity.
It was over so fast, with them re-setting behind the sofa and into the kitchen and down the stairs, that we pretended it never happened.
He was nervous enough, already, that he couldn't breech the social intensity of what had happened, and he just shook my hand and thanked us, said good evening, and backed out the door.
[Btw, Passing on pharmacology for those reasons is pretty unusual. MJ thinks they ought to put people in the cages if it's so important. Yah, right. Think of the noises they'd make.] |
