“Cats Do Control Humans, Study Finds”.
That was the title of a “news item” I read the other day. Someone actually needed to do a study to determine this? Kind of like having to do a study that finds that the sun rises in the east. Of course they control us. The ancient Egyptians admitted it, so why can’t we?
I long ago gave up any pretense of who actually runs the house. Hands down (or that should probably be paws down), His Royal Catness Prince Mabon does.
(Note to prospective cat “owners”: be very careful what you decide to call the cat. They tend to manifest the qualities. “Banshee”? Really bad idea). My friends have seen various ways in which Prince Mabon exerts his powers. For instance, if people are over for a visit and the time reaches ten p.m., he proceeds to parade back and forth before the assembled guests and meow at them until they leave. Closed doors? He’s not having it. One speck of bare bowl showing through his crunchies? Disaster that must be immediately rectified. Not to mention the required petting, brushing, and the fact that I must be within his eyesight at all times. If he could figure out a way to imprison me 24/7 he would. Actually, I am not altogether sure he isn’t hatching such a plot as we speak.
There is an international conspiracy of cats, if the truth were told. The study, published in the July 14th issue of the journal Current Biology, is only a hint at the vastness of the influence held by the furry felines. At the risk of endangering my own well-being, I will let you in on some of the secret things I know about. Cats For An Illiterate World is a global organization. The members of CFAIW carry out their mission by immediately hopping up onto desks, kitchen tables, lap boards and just plain laps whenever reading material is present. The only exception to this is if the reading material is cat related. Their mission? I think that is obvious. Sinister, but obvious. Keep the Big Ones ignorant. Let them toil in their delusional state and never let them awaken from it!
But wait, there’s more. Behind every cat that uncannily knows the one person in the room with an allergy, which rug is the most expensive, just exactly how to knock over that planter, is a secret society so ingenious, so pervasive, so diabolical that even Dan Brown would be at a loss to fully appreciate it. Yes, I am talking about The Bast Society. Long ago, the first Grand Catster disseminated amongst the faithful the Keys of Mind Control and the techniques for The Yanking of the Chain. This last can be very serious, just read this excerpt:
Be sure to choose a time when you are alone with a Big One. Better still if darkness abounds outside. Be companionable and sit in a cozy fashion with the Big One. Wait. Be ever mindful of the temptation to nap. Be not sidetracked by the Nip or by shiny objects. When the time is optimum, suddenly sit up straight as an arrow, ears erect, eyes wide, and stare. Staring at a darkened window is best, but if one is not available, any direction will do. The more intent your stare, the more unsettled the Big One will become. This is great fun.
We cannot fight against this kind of superior tactic. And they know it. Somehow, they managed to get us to pay for a study to prove it. Hear them laughing their sinister little cat laughs?
I understand they are working on genetic developments involving opposable thumbs.