How We Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept the Fact That Cats Rule Our Lives

Yes, Sloppists, it's come to this. We are writing about the Cats of Solipsist.

Since COS (Cousin of Solipsist) and FOS (Friend of Solipsist) are already taken, they will henceforth be referred to as POS (Pets of Solipsist).

The Solipsist has many cats, primarily because WOS suffers from OCD: Obsessive Cat Disorder. She's never met a cat--or, really, an animal--she doesn't like, and she has a tendency to get suckered by a feline face gazing plaintively into her eyes.

Originally, we had a relatively sane two cats (the NUMBER was sane, not the cats; there is no such thing as a sane cat): Kendi and Mocha.

Taco, was an accident: We trapped a kitten and intended to give it away to a friend. WOS, however, quickly grew attached. And then there were three.

When we were moving out of our apartment, Kudzoo started following the Solipsist around. He was extremely friendly, and, despite our best efforts to shoo him away, he decided to curl up in a basket and go to sleep. And then there were four.

Kudzoo with ???

When we arrived at the house into which we were moving, a kitten was waiting for us in the front yard. She came into the house. We told WOS we really couldn't keep this many cats. Later that night, while we were stretched out on the floor watching TV, the kitten, Kupu, reared up and, for no reason, bit the Solipsist right on his butt. The Solipsist squawked and grumbled, "We're NOT keeping that cat." When WOS stopped laughing, she replied, "Oh, yes, we are!" And then there were five.

Kendi passed away about a year later, and it seemed like the household would stabilize at four cats. After we moved again, an orange cat took to spending time on our deck. WOS would feed it and, eventually, coaxed it into the house. Before Orange had time to react, WOS slammed the door behind her and that was that. And then there were, again, five.

One day, Orange ran away, but, before we could re-acclimate ourselves to four cats, a kitten "ran" into the house. Well, at least WOS told us the kitten ran into the house. Subsequently, WOS let slip that the cat was actually minding its own business down on the driveway until WOS encouraged the cat--by grabbing it and hugging it--to enter. Gremlin quickly endeared herself to the Solipsist by sneak-attacking while we were eating ice cream. Well, OK: Orange was gone, Gremlin could stay. And then there were five.

Orange came back. And then there were six.

Then, one Sunday morning, WOS and Solipsist came home from an evening getaway. Solipsist was engaging WOS with some typically riveting sociopolitical commentary:

Solipsist: Blah, blah blah. . . .

WOS: Shhhh, I hear something.

Solipsist: Blah, blah blah. . . .

WOS: SHHHHH!

Solipsist: Blah, blah, blah. . . .

WOS: SHUT UP!!!!!

We shut up.

Sure enough, we heard a frantic squeaking. We went into the bedroom. We looked into the clothes hamper, from whence issued the squeaking and saw what looked like an exploded cat. In fact, it was just Gremlin. Gremlin and her five newborn kittens!

No, we don't have eleven cats. That would be insane.

We gave one kitten away.

Now, Theseus, Heidi, Leo, and Bobo--plus Mr. Hans von Schnerval, an understandably neurotic guniea pig--round out the menagerie at Solipsist HQ. Some call us crazy cat people, but, really, once you've got three cats, it really doesn't matter any more: Your life is over, so you might as well take in more. Ultimately, they're pretty endearing little creatures.

Next, we're going to start collecting turtles.