I love our cat, but his breath could end wars.
I mean it. Just drop our cat, Nigel, in the middle of a battlefield and have him breathe on members of each side.
Swords will turn into plowshares pretty damn fast, I promise.
Nigel is classified as a ‘good kitty,’ but the odor of his cat breath can be classified as Toxic. Or to use Layman’s terms, Peel the Walls Nasty.¹
I shared this observation with Stephanie last Saturday morning. As I petted Nigel, he yawned a mere two inches from my nostrils, and loosed the kitty equivalent of a chemical attack.
“Ack,” I said, fighting back tears. “Nigel, it is a good thing you are cute, because your breath is terrible.”
“He probably thinks the same about your breath,” Stephanie said. “When did you brush your teeth last?”
“Last night,” I said.
“See,” Stephanie said. “You have morning breath and are right in his face. I bet he can’t stand it.”
“Yeah, but he’s never brushed his teeth, and he’s three years old. There’s a big difference between three years of no brushing and about eight hours.” As I watched Nigel lick himself, I added, “And he cleans his butt with his tongue.”
Stephanie’s eyes widened a bit as they fell on Nigel, mid tongue bath. “…Good point.”
The situation worsens on the rare times when Nigel licks my fingers or hands: I am bathed in foul smelling saliva, and flee to the sink to wash off the stink, feeling like a space marine frantically removing acid drenched armor in the film Aliens.²
But, stinky breath is a small price to pay for such a lovable cat. Nigel keeps our lives interesting. He is the Joker to our two-bedroom Gotham City: introducing a bit of chaos with the swipe of a paw or a swish of his tail.
Case in point: the other day Nigel turned on my Nintendo Wii, by himself. Sure, all Nigel did was rub his face against the console and accidentally hit the power button, but I couldn’t help but love him even more. “It’s a sign!” I said. “I should play Ocarina of Time all day!”
However, feelings of increased love quickly evaporated while I was napping on the couch later, when Nigel curled up next to me, and promptly sneezed in my face.
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¹ Pronounced: nas-tay
² Y’know, that scene where Hicks and Ripley get stuck in the elevator? I also feel the same way when coming inside from the cold covered in winter gear. GET IT OFFWant Clattertron Prints and Merch? Buy my prints, mugs, phone cases, pillows, and tote bags on Society6.
- Daniel J. Hogan is a geek living in Michigan. Follow him on Twitter, @danieljhogan. Follow Clattertron on Facebook too.