Today I got out of the shower with a clean towel fresh from the dryer. As I wiped the water from my hair and eyes I felt something scratchy on my eyelid. I plucked away the foreign object only to notice it was a wad of Hamish hair that had somehow miraculously withstood a wash cycle and dry cycle, fending off the likes of detergent and fabric softener and clung to the fibers of this towel with the tenacity of a thirsty leech. I know without a doubt it was a bundle of Hamish hair since no other hair source in my house is orange in color. Neither my wife or I tend to dye our hair loud colors just for kicks nor does anyone I know who visits with any regularity.
You can tell when this kind of things starts to make you crazy when you come out of the bathroom singing stupid lyrics to kooky songs instead of raving in frustration. Hey, Weird Al Yankovic made a decent living at it, so sing along with me now to the “one hit wonder” of Lou Vega’s “Mambo # 5”
a little bit o’ Hamish in my eye
a little bit o’ Hamish makes me cry
a little bit o’ fur is everywhere
a little bit o’ fur makes me wanna swear
Do da dee dee da da dee dada
a little bit o’ Hamish on my shirt
a little bit o’ Tati on her skirt
a little bit o’ Hamish on my brain
a litte bit o’ him makes me insane
Do da dee dee da da dee dada
My wife laughed along initially until she exclaimed “OMG!…now I have to blast some other kind of music on the way to work or I’ll be humming that silly tune all night!”
I make reference to the last line of my lyrics about its the little things that can make you insane.
I think I can honestly say that Hamish’s one truly redeeming factor is that he is adorably cute, sappy with his affection and an unending source of laughs due to his amazing stupidity. He can crawl up on the sofa next to you in the evening when the pupils of his eyes are open wide and its like looking into two marbles stuffed into a ball of fur. We’re talking the kind of darkness in those eyes that remind you of black holes. The kind of empty vacuum of space where anything and everything can get lost. I would imagine any sort of command or threat I could possibly muster would have no chance to find any intelligent life in the midst of such a void.
Hamish is without a doubt a creature of habit, maybe not the kind of habits you would prefer that he have, but predictable nonetheless.
Say for instance you can be looking forward to sleeping in on your day off and you ceremoniously DO NOT set your alarm clock. Have no fear, Hamish will be happy to sit outside the bedroom door and provide the most forlorn, withering whine of meows that would make you believe he is about to draw his last breath. Of course upon opening the bedroom door he rockets down the hallway as if fired off an aircraft carrier catapult.
Even if you leave the door open in hope he will give up this bewildering routine, the he proceeds to come into the bedroom and go on patrol for all of the eminent dangers that certainly must have threatened you all night. Not that he would be much if any help were there truly a threat of any kind. In that event, behind the bed or any adjacent bathroom cabinet door will provide ready escape and evasion technique.
I have made the fool mistake in the past of actually getting out of bed and following him to the other rooms to see if there was indeed something that required my attention. The quick check of the dry food bowl and water dispenser always eliminates the first order of business and by default the last. Never make the dizzying mistake of following a fool who can be spooked by the sight of his own tail under the right conditions. In my semi-awake state it took three or four rooms before you realize Hamish isnt leading you anywhere, he is trying to anticipate the next place he thinks you may be going.
I could go on and on about his unexplainable habits but I stray from my original and most amazing aspect of having Hamish around. Many men my age face the grim torment of male pattern baldness. I say medical researchers need to ditch the white mice and start studying cats. I have no earthly idea how one animal can shed such large volumes of hair and not yet be bald. It absolutely defies the laws of physics, and one only needs to look as far as the central heat pump air filter to be convinced. I have long been a fan of science fiction and one look at one of these filters that has only been in place for a scant month leaves one wondering if some manner of transport system that allowed the cats flesh and bone structure to pass through, but not the hair. I keep expecting to look around and find some mechanical terminator cat crouched in the hallway because his portal gateway was through my air conditioning system filter.
I now plan to propose a system for energy independence to President Obama. Let all pet owners be given tax breaks for the purchase of bag style vacuum cleaners. This will stimulate the production of said vacuums as well as the new paper bags to go in them that will have pre-post marked addresses to cogeneration energy plants all over the country. We will vacuum early and often and soon the cogeneration plants will have a never ending stream of flammable pet hair bags to produce mass amounts of electrical energy. The only fear we would have would be the dogs and cats going bald…that sounds like it could last easily as long as oil reserves have so far. I personally cant think of a faster renewing resource than Hamish hair.
Love your pets…they made be powering the hybrid cars of tomorrow.
T. August Green