Been watching a lot of Criminal Minds as of late. I know. Huge shock there. Ian watching a show about serial killers is SO out of the ordinary. AJ Cook is hot. I don’t even like blondes that much but man I’d eat my own arm for a chance to sniff her belly button. She can get it, keep it and do whatever she wants with it. Ok… TMI. My apologies. Anyway for those who have never seen the show it’s about a FBI task force named the BAU (Behavioral Analysis Unit). Their job is to capture serial killers, serial rapists, pedophiles, mass murderers, arsonists, etc in an attempt to profile their behavior for use against other sickos. It’s nowhere near as hokey as the CSI family of cop dramas though. It often tells tales of some pretty grizzly acts of human depravity not much different than what you find in the news any given day.
How does this tie into our cats?
Last week I had a case that needed solving. I had come in from running some errands to find multiple crime scenes. There was a poop in the bedroom, a pee in the bathroom and a gross heinous explosive puke in the bedroom closet. Immediately I cordoned off the areas to prevent the crime scene from being contaminated. I’ve logged plenty of years as a CD (Cat Detective) so I knew my keen detection skills would be needed on this one. An initial survey of the scene provided immediate results. I ascertained that it was not a tandem act but in fact a single criminal I was hunting. The two Cats of Interest have long and extensive criminal histories dating back to their earlier childhood. The fact that they’re brother and sister lead many to believe that they orchestrate crimes together but in fact they are competitive. Very rarely do they ever work together yet they both admire one another’s work. To my shock and dismay I ended up seeing an episode of Criminal Minds that called “The Last Word” where two serial killers were essentially competing against one another. This led me to believe I was dealing with a creature far more complex than I anticipated.
Both siblings withstood grueling minutes of interrogation without cracking. I didn’t have enough evidence to pin it on either one specifically and feared I would not be able to solve the case before Suzanne’s return from Ottawa. After the clean up crews came in and cleaned up all the evidence I sat in my office trying to figure out who did it. Precious hours were ticking away. Everyone knows a case becomes incredibly harder to solve after the first 48 hours so I was hard pressed to find something to pin on one of them.
24 hours gave way to 48. Suzanne had returned home and I still couldn’t figure which one of the culprits committed the triple caticide. The last thing I needed was a serial shitter with a puking fetish in the office. Desperate, I tried to free my thoughts up by watching Criminal Minds yet again. I can’t recall the specific episode but as I sat there with the crime scene photos scattered across my desk, sipping my coffee, Agent Hotchner outlined a profile to the group of detectives and beat cops he was addressing. He said the perpetrator was narcissistic, had medium to low level education and obsessed with the act he had committed. The thing that stood out the most is when he said that the killer wants control over the situation and will often insert himself into the investigation. He’ll be at the crime scene, posing as a bystander, observing what the cops are doing. Sometimes he may even call in crimestopper tips to the cops leading them to the crime scene.
It was at that moment it all came back to me. I recalled when I first happened upon the first crime scene in the bedroom. As I surveyed the carnage I remember looking back towards the doorway. There he stood. Partially obscured by the doorframe but staring at me with his piercing orange eyes. My coffee slipped from my hands and shattered on the ground like US Customs Agent Dave Kujan’s did as I realized who had done it.
I raced into the bedroom once again and opened the door to the closet. There he stood; going over the crime scene I had cleaned up only a couple days earlier. He looked up at me with those cold orange eyes and smiled.
If you have been never read The Oatmeal’s “How To Tell If Your Cat Is Plotting To Kill You” you’ll get a kick out of it. It gives some amazing and amusing insight into the mindset of cats. Cat owners deal with a variety of quirks with regards to their furry little companions. It’s never a dull day.
A cool breeze slips in through the partially opened balcony door. The sun is on the rise casting a baby blue blanket over the slushy capital city. Ravens the size of small cattle dance throughout the sky bellowing mating calls while the ever-present hum of airplane engines echo in the distance. It is 2am in the land of the Midnight Sun and all are asleep.
Everyone except the Dynamic Duo…
“Why do you do that?” Brit asks Jemaine as she lounges lazily high atop the cat tower.
“I’m looking for her.” he replies trying to blog on the computer that is off.
“Sophie?” frustration creeps into her voice, “How many time do we have to go over this? She’s not here! She hasn’t been here for like months!”
He saunters his way over to the couch, “I know and I’m quite certain she was taken by The Bear. I’m still holding out hope for her. That’s why I call out in the middle of the night. Just in case she’s there. That and… I’m also hungry.”
“Oh my GOD! You’re still going on about the Bear?? It’s a coat for fuck’s sake! A coat! Anyone in their right mind can see it’s a coat!” she scoffs as she sits upright now and glares down at him
” No. No. It’s not. I’m certain it’s a bear. Do you hear the rustling sound it makes when it comes out? I have it on good authority that bears rustle just like that.”
“You’re an idiot. Bears don’t rustle. How do you even come up with this stuff??”
He charges up to the 2nd rung of the cat tower and starts tearing away furiously at the scratching post beneath her, “No you are the one who sucks, Brit! I’m right about many things. I was right about the vet wasn’t I?”
“What the hell are you talking about? You were caught off guard even more than I was!” she lashes at him before punching him on the top of his head.
“No no. Not that time. They fooled us that time. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice then…uh.. well it just isn’t good. I’m talking about the second time they took us.” swiping back at her but missing badly.
She sits patiently and watches as he punches blindly at her, “Are you daft? We’ve never been back there.”
“Yes we have. Don’t you remember when they took us to that one place where we waited for a couple of hours. Then we got in our apartments and took that really long drive. Then it was white and cold outside but then they brought us to that waiting room for a like a week or two. Remember how I said that it we just kept shitting they would know we were okay and they wouldn’t take us to the doctor – and they didn’t!” he boasts confidentially as he sits back and looks up at her.
“You are truly short bus aren’t you? That wasn’t a car ride you doof! We were in something far more terrifying than a car. I dunno what it was but it sure as hell wasn’t an automobile.”
She pauses for a moment then stares at him with wide unsuspecting eyes, “Oh my God. You think we’re still waiting to go to see the vet don’t you? You think we’re going back to the place with the stairs at some point? Dude… we moved. Don’t you realize that? I don’t know where we are but this really bright, white and cold place is home now. “
“You lie! I have been saving us all this time by crapping 20 times a day! That keeps the Bear away and the Bear can’t take us away like it did Sophie! I’m positive it is working for the vet!”
“I am not! I will eat you now, Brit! Prepare to be eaten and then shat out for the greater good!
He launches himself up at her. Unfortunately his rather bulbous gut prevents him from scaling his way to the top-tier. Seizing the opportunity she leaps from her perch and onto the couch. Realizing he’s been outmaneuvered by his smaller and nimbler sister he regroups and springs towards her. His moves are slow and predictable. She dashes off the cushion and around the other couch before he even lands. Enraged he launches himself in her general direction. The laws of physics grab hold of him as his weight times the speed he’s moving send him crashing into the empty food bowls. The commotion startles Ian and Suzanne out of an already shaky night’s sleep. Before either of their visions can focus, Brit vanishes under the bed like a ninja into the darkness leaving Jemaine behind as he charges his way into the bedroom.
He now realizes he’s awakened father and mother and pauses. He wants to run under the bed but that’s not a good idea right now. Brit snickers at him from the shadows as Ian rises from the bed in a fit of rage. Panic-stricken he bolts from the doorway and back into the living room with father in hot pursuit. He tries to lose him in the maze of chair legs beneath the kitchen table. Unfortunately for him Ian has armed himself with the water bottle and he has now boxed himself in. Water pellets riddle his body as he cowers in fear.
The assault subsides and the father retreats back into the bedroom leaving a Jemaine wet and shamed…
“I will get my revenge, Britanny. Oh yes… I will get my revenge…”
A Secret Lives of Cats Exclusive
Monday March 22, 2011 3:28 a.m. EST
By: The Frosty Bear
(DTN) – It was reported to DTN today that the infamous Resolute parka known as “The Bear” ceased to terrify long-time winter jacket-hater Jemaine Etheridge. Jemaine, a one and a half year old orange and white short-haired cat originally from Niagara Falls, has been in staunch opposition against what he billed as being “noisy and intimidating” outerwear since around October of 2010. The reasons behind his discord have never been fully disclosed but that hasn’t halted his protests over the past few months. He has staged under the bed one-cat rallies and anti-hunger strikes over the past half a year in an effort to make sure the world knew his displeasure with the disputed coats.
We spoke with Ian Etheridge, his step father, who explained to us the events that unfolded, “I had just come in from the post office with several packages in hand. Jemaine has never liked my coat so when I came in I wasn’t expecting him to be there. I figured he was off demonstrating somewhere but then I caught sight of him by the couch. He walked up cautiously, long necking the entire time but came right up to me and let me pet him with my parka on. He was of course still a little skittish but he didn’t bugger off under the bed in protest.”
This landmark breakthrough marks the end of a stalemate between Jemaine and the executives over at Canada Goose.
We caught up with Jemaine yesterday to ask for his insights into his amazing change of heart.
Jemaine: I dunno really. I had just laid down in the living room after trying to eat my sister. My blood was pumping a bit but that was when father came in. He called to me and I swore he said he something to eat so I went over to him to see if he had something to eat but he didn’t have anything to eat. He only wanted to pet my head and not give me something to eat but by that time I didn’t realize how close I was to it.
DTN: Were you scared when you noticed you were near “The Bear”?
Jemaine: Well more leery than anything. Like I’m quite certain it ate Sophie at some point. I haven’t seen her since it came into our house. I try calling out to her every morning at 6am but I think it digested her. That won’t stop me from trying to contact her though. I just fear for father’s sake. I’m not ascared of it. Really.
DTN: How do you explain the accusations about cowering in fear under the bed?
Jemaine: Mmmmm. Bed.
Unfortunately Jemaine was unable to finish the interview. We attempted to contact Brit for a statement on the matter but she declined with no comment.
We at Dystopian Times North can only hope that Jemaine follows through with his treatment and doesn’t slip back into bad habits.
The majority of the day has been spent in feline bliss. The brightness of the day time hours forced the children into hibernation. As the sun slowly makes it way past the horizon they arise briefly to eat dinner but quickly retreat into the shadows underneath the bed after they are done. It’s a long night ahead and this is early morning for the Dynamic Duo…
7:01pm – The rustling of keys at the door startles the children and they quickly enter the living room to see who is entering the apartment. Still weary from a long day’s sleep and a full belly, Brit turns to Jemaine “She must be home. Quick Jemaine. Pretend like we’ve been awake the whole time. We don’t want her to think we’ve been sleeping all day.”
Jemaine lets out a large yawn as Suzanne walks through the door. He can’t seem to focus on anything because he’s so groggy so he just sits in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, gathering his senses. Suzanne greets him with a loving pat on the head. He quickly gets up and heads towards his empty food bowl.
“Mother. I am so desperately hungry. Father didn’t feed us all day and now I am famished.” he whines to her.
Without hesitation, Brit sits by his side and reinforces his point. “Yes mother. Father is cruel and doesn’t feed us when we want. Will you not help us?” she pleads with large watery eyes.
Suzanne looks towards Ian who is working at the computer and asks if he fed them already. He acknowledges that he did at six, a mere hour ago. Displeased with their attempted ruse, she walks into the bedroom and ignores their pleas of desperation.
“But mother! I am so hungry. Pay no attention to the fact that I weigh nearly as much as a doberman. I’m big boned. I need to eat immediately or else I will die!” Jemaine snaps at her as she leaves.
Brit hops up to a kitchen chair and lays down. “Give it up, bro. They’re not going for it. We’ll have to try something else.”
He approaches the chair and sits next to it. “What do you propose, Brit?” he asks with puzzlement.
“I’m not sure just yet but I’ll think of something.”
7:25pm – Ian and Suzanne have headed out to the store leaving the terrorists by themselves. Sophie rests comfortably in her bed in the bedroom while Jemaine is stationed next to the couch, spying around the corner at his sister who is looking right back at him from the doorway. They say nothing to one another but stare intensely for long agonizing minutes. Finally the Mexican standoff is broken by a butt wiggle and a pounce by Jemaine. He darts across the room with surprising speed. Brit leaps in the air moments before they collide and lands on top of him. The two tumble into the kitchen in a drunken bar brawl fight that lasts only a couple of seconds. Unimpressed with the way events are playing out, Brit cuts the wrestling match short by hopping up onto the kitchen chair once again.
“You’re playing too rough again, Jemaine” she scoffs at him.
“I know. I’m hungry. I was trying to eat you once again. What are you doing to your fur lately. It tastes awesome. What is it? Pantene?” licking his paw and rubbing his head with it.
She lays out flat on the chair, “Nah. Litter probably. My pantaloons are so long right now that I pretty much pick up anything and everything around this house. You’re probably eating at variety of things when you take clips of my fur out”.
“I’m still hungry though. Why won’t they feed me when I want to?” he whines as he lays out sexily across the floor.
Brit peeks over the edge of the chair, “I got an idea. How about you look in the garbage pale over there? There’s bound to be something to eat in there. If I’m not mistaken I think I saw him put some balled up tape in there earlier”.
Excited with the prospect of a delicacy being available Jemaine quickly springs to hes feet. “For real? I’ll go check.”
He saunters his way over the garbage can and props himself up on his hind legs like a meerkat. Carefully he dips his head into the garbage and fishes around. After a couple of moments he slowly pulls out a used sheet from the lint roller. “Aw man! This is awesome! I didn’t know he put these in here. I love licking these. Lint and sticky stuff is like the best combination EVER!”
Jemaine toils around with the lint roller sheet for a couple of minutes before inevitably getting bored. Having found such a treasure, he makes his way back to the garbage for a second dip while Brit watches from above. This time around however, greed mixed with clumsiness causes him to knock the whole can over when he puts his front paws on the rim spilling the contents all over the floor. Jemaine considers this a brilliant move. This makes sifting through the garbage so much easier. He spends the next 10 minutes or so carefully separating the various pieces of trash. Plastic wrappers, tape and anything sticky are hot commodities in Jemaine world so he’s very meticulous in making sure he lays everything out properly across the kitchen.
“You know you’re gonna get into shit for that, right?” Brit cautions.
Unphased by her warning he continues to sort, “Why? I know mother and father have told me to not go into the trash can about a dozen times already but I know better than them, Brit. I’m a year old now and I know there are good things in the trash that they’re holding out on me.”
Slyly Brit hops down off the chair and begins to help with some of the sorting. “You know if you really wanted a treat – I mean a real treat – you know like the kind they give us when we’re good… I know where we can get them”.
He stops what he’s doing and looks at her with wide eyes. “For seriously? Where?”
She looks up to the kitchen table. “I can’t confirm this positively, but I’m sure I saw father put the container of treats up there. Jump up there and see.”
“Father and mother have forbade us from going up there, Brit. Remember the last time when I was on the microwave cart trying to get at the food they tried to stash away from us? Father chased me around the house for several minutes and yelled a lot at me. I’ll get in trouble” he says hesitantly.
“Yeah but that was the microwave cart. They told us to not go on the counters and the cart. They never said anything about the kitchen table so you won’t get into trouble” she reassures him as she cleans his forehead.
“That’s so true. You’re so smart, Brit. I’m on it.”
He scouts the area out looking for the best possible route up. He locks his eyes one of the kitchen chairs for a couple of seconds before launching himself. In one bounce he’s on the chair and in the second he crashes into the shopping flyers that he didn’t see in the middle of the table. Startled by the unsure footing he panics and makes an unscheduled leap off the end of the table sending papers all over the place. With a resounding thud he lands back on the floor next to Brit.
“I didn’t see anything up there, Brit. I believe you deceived me.” staring angrily at her.
“How could you see anything when you jumped right off there in a second? You suck!” she lashes back at him.
“No you are the one who sucks Brit! Prepare to die!”
Without hesitation they spring into action once again. First they race downstairs into the basement. Brit quickly loses Jemaine amongst the obstacle course of boxes Ian and Suzanne have out for packing. She sits high atop a precarious mountain of items Ian is looking to sell and looks down at Jemaine mocking his inability to navigate through the smaller crevices. When he finally has had enough of her taunts the plunges into a pile of boxes and rampages towards her. His awkward and predictable approach gives Brit plenty of time and a clean avenue to escape past him and back up the stairs. Angered by her evasiveness, he takes off after her in hot pursuit.
They clash once again in the middle of the living room. They wrestle on the ground, each trying to gain the upper hand. Brit fires a few punches at Jemaine’s head but they don’t deter his relentless assault. He puts her in a headlock and gnaws on her neck. Feeling out of position and vulnerable, she realizes this is a predicament she doesn’t like – being on the losing end – and calls a stop to the bout with a serious hiss. Jemaine backs off for a moment. They stare at one another once again for long pregnant minutes trying to catch their breath.
“I beat you Brit.” he proclaims.
“Okay okay. You won that one. How about we go sleep next to one another on the couch. All this activity has made me sleepy once again” she suggests, still huffing and puffing.
“That sounds like a great idea. I’m sorry I tried to eat you again Brit. I can’t help it sometimes. I’m so hungry”.
“I know, Jemaine. It’s okay. Mother and father will feed us when they get in. You sorted the garbage and cleared the table for them. I’m sure we’ll get treats for this”.
“I believe this will make them happy?” he boasts inquisitively as they lay next to one another.
“Yes it will, Jemaine. How can they possibly get mad?”
They drift off to sleep resting comfortably next to one another…