Thursday, January 20, 2011

Dr. Doolittle

I speak cat.
I can also understand some dog.
Monkey is just gibberish and I doubt that chickens even have a language. 
I realized this about two years ago when I found Fat Jack with his throat ripped out laying on my porch bleeding out life number two.
I said, "Oh shit, are you OK?" and I very distinctly heard in my head


The odd thing to me at the time was that he sounded just like Barry White.
Since then we have meaningful conversations all the time.
He is pretty wise for a 45lb fur-ball that only has 2, maybe 3 lives left.

We had a very long talk one day after we had rescued him from the cat hoarder. He was telling me about all the other cats in the garage with him. It had never occurred to me that other animals than humans could be racist. But Fat Jack has a deep and abiding hatred for orange cats and long hairs. He couldn't tell me why, and when I pushed him for a reason he just looked at me out of his good eye (the one that shuts) and said "Son, some things is just things" then he farted on me.
He calls me Son when he thinks I have said something dumb.  Let me rephrase that. He calls me Tom seldom and refers to me as Son the rest of the time. It’s quite odd, being addressed by an animal I once punted through the door for yakking half digested dog food all over the carpet on Christmas eve referring to me as "Son". 

The Dog,  Mr. Henry speaks much less. He has a really high excited sounding voice, and repeats things. "Ball ball ball ball ball ball ball ball ball" (you get the idea) is a pretty common litany.  Another is "water" "food" and other such mundane things. 
Every once in a long while he surprises me.
One morning, he was chanting "Tom! Tom! Tom!" over and over and over until I threw a shoe at him. The next thing I heard was this splashing sound as he projectile shat all over the hall.
When I got up to beat the hell out of him he just looked at me. Sitting there in the hall, surrounded by his own splatter and said, slowly and clearly. Enunciating every word "I tried to get your attention old boy, but you were dead to the world. This mess is a direct result of........”
That’s when I kicked him.
Did I mention he has a high voice? The kind that sounds super excited all the time? I know he drives Fat Jack nuts, but I never thought they really understood each other. I figured that it just sounded like yelps and barks and mewls and odd noises. well, I was wrong.
A few months ago I accidentally drilled through my hand.
 It hurt.
 I was jumping about and trying not to whimper. I sat down to catch my breath and looked over to see both of them, sitting calmly, looking at me.
Mr. Henry (the damn dog) looked over at Fat Jack (the damn cat) and said
 "HEY! did you see THAT!!?" and Fat Jack said, ostentatiously to Henry, but I know he wanted me to hear. "yep, what a dumb-ass"

No comments: