There's a contest in my house to see who could shed the most hair ... between my wife and my cat. I'm not complaining; my wife's hair smells like fruit salad, and I have a very cool Siamese cat. But like in a Dashboard Confessional song: their "haaaaair is eeev-reee-wheeeeeerrrrreeeee!" I have cat hair on my underwear, because he usually sleeps in my underwear drawer, and I have my wife's hair in my underwear, because we wash our clothes together and it just gets inside there. It's a mystery of (probably not so complicated) physics.
But the cat is curious. You know that old observation where a dog will immediately stick his head out the window of a moving car but turns away if you blow in his face? Why is that? My cat, like most of 'em, loves running water. So we always let him drink from the faucet. He has a bowl of fresh water that sits on the floor for him every day, next to his food. But does he drink from it? Rarely. But if we left the toilet seat up he makes a beeline for the bowl. Why the hell is that? So strange. And friggin' disgusting!
Women ... can't live with 'em and they can't pee standing up. Cats ... well, just don't really have to live with 'em ... if it weren't for the women!
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