My girlfriend went to Chicago for a bachelorette party. Who was going to feed (and more importantly, entertain) Higgy, the adopted Chilean street cat named after the famous South American dictator?
Woke up. Higgy was scratching my neck to politely know that it was time to feed him.
Ate breakfast: eggs on toast.
Watched Higgy nap. Aww, he's so cute with his paws over his eyes. Now he's belly up, stretching.
Took a nap with Higgy. We spooned.
Woke up and ate lunch.
Played with Higgy. Ran around. Scratched up the couch. Jumped in high shelf areas in the closet.
Found boxes and fit ourselves into them. He was better at this than me.
Watched television. Sex and the City is our favorite show.
Worked out. Did, fifteen, sixteen pushups.
Decided I wasn’t going to talk to anyone human this weekend.
I was going to have a silent retreat, so to speak.
I was only going to talk to the cat.
Meow, meow, I said.
Meow meow, he answered me back.
Meow meow, I said.
Meeeooooow, he said.
It’s hard to argue with him since he’s a good debater. The way he emphasizes some of his meows is particularly clever.
Watched more SATC. Higgy thinks Carrie Bradshaw’s antics on SATC are funny and horrible and he thought it was hilarious how Miranda was worried that if she died home alone her cat would eat her. It's true, cats do eat their humans, Higgy said. I mean he didn't say I could just tell by the way he looked at me.
Organized the bathroom. Higgy supervised. Installed some shelves.
Found girlfriend's makeup box. We decided to make our faces. I put some lipstick on, blush, mascara, eye shadow, and Higgy did the same. We looked fantastic. We never looked better. We went out to the patio so the people on the sidewalk could see how fabulous we looked, so sexy, so attractive, so men-about-town, so enticing that everyone wanted us, male, female, and feline.
We strutted on our patio back and forth—with Higgy on the ledge—until a crowd gathered beneath us and still we didn’t talk we just meowed. Because we’re the Meow Brothers, that’s what I decided, that’s our name I won’t answer to anything else.
Got bored with the humans so we went inside.
Watched more SATC.
Fed Higgy again.
Answered call from girlfriend.
Hey, babe, we’re having so much fun and yes I fed the fish and yes I watered the plants—oh wait, did I water the plants? Oh no, the basil doesn’t look good! Okay I should water the plants.
Higgy's taking a nap. He can’t talk right now.
Higgy, your mama says that you’re a good boy and she misses you.
Higgy, mama says that she wants to cuddle you and you’re the best cat in the world and you have the softest fur and are so cuddly and wonderful and she just wants to hug you forever.
What are you doing now? I said. Oh, you're eating penis pasta.
What’s penis pasta? Higgy wants to know. Pasta in the shape of penises. How nice. How appropriate.
Bye, have fun with the penis pasta!
Slept and ate.
She's home! Yay!