the cat 2

one night i decided to sit and brush “catface” for a while. i must have brushed her for an hour and, to be honest, i’m surprised there was anything left when i was done. i’m not entirely convinced she is a corporeal cat, but rather possibly just a large, animated ball of fur. i could have made a fake mohair sweater from the fur i pulled out of the brush. but still, it was a very pleasant experience for all parties. she has a purr that puts a diesel to shame, which prompted me to reflect that, despite her fatness and laziness, she is still a nice sort and doesn’t really deserve to be called “catface.” maybe we’ll call her “caterpillar” or “cummins” or “mac.” but no, none of those strike me as especially feminine.

then i thought of how charlie gets so excited every time we are about to go outside. he looks at me and says, “k’tigutigutigu!” with his little tongue darting in and out between his lips. i think i’ve hit on it. we’ll call her “k’tigu,” which will sound exotic, possibly african, but in fact will just be the cute mispronunciation of “kitty” that my two year old came up with. i find myself strangely comfortable with it. i haven’t asked the cat what she thinks. she’ll just want me to harvest more fur.