Simon and Garfunkel

It's amazing to me how much personality my cats have. I guess when we named them after the geniuses behind "Cecelia", we should have known they would bit a little weird. But they are more than a little weird.

Garfunkel likes carrying things around in his teeth. Little things like hair ties and underwear and big things like slippers and the bathroom rug. He drags them around the house. The rug is 3 times his size. Also, he sleeps on his back and upside down. He jumps up on our piano and walks across the keys. It makes a terrible sound, but I like to hear the piano played.

Simon, on the other hand, is afraid of life. Clapping, the vacuum, outside, and sudden movements send him into hiding for days under a bed. Or one time, inside the box spring of a bed. When Simon hops up on a lap, he walks around for 10 minutes at a time getting "situated". His paws have the similar effect as a baker kneading dough. Sometimes he presses his paws in so hard that it hurts. We just clap and he runs away.

They both like knocking things off the kitchen counter. Bowls. Coffee cups. And they eat butter, if we leave it out. Sometimes they sit inappropriately on top of each other and lick each other. It's very homoerotic. My mom has to look away.

I'm home for Spring Break, so Simon, Garfunkel, and I are bonding. I'm trying not to because I'm  allergic to them. It really is ironic how the things in my life I want to get close to are things that I can't (mostly because I am allergic--ie peanut butter, oranges). But that's another story...

I wouldn't mind being a cat lady someday, if it wasn't for the whole allergy thing. I like to cuddle. Cats like to cuddle. I like to nap. Cats like to nap. It's a match made in [histamine] heaven.

And even if you don't like cats (most don't, I'm finding)... Simon and Garfunkel really break the kitty mold. They're freaks. And they're hilarious.