The Cobra

Before I begin let's get something right. I hate cats. I'm going to blame this on the cat my parents had when I was two who ate both my fish Goldilocks and Michael Jackson. The first victim was Goldilocks who was missing out of her fishbowl after my parents and I came home from Christmas at my aunt's house. After replacing Goldilocks with Michael Jackson the cat (who's name was Rascal) not only devoured poor Michael but smashed my fishbowl in the process. Alas, Rascal got his comeuppance when I put a barrette on his tail while he was eating and it took my Dad 3 hours to get him out from under the bed to remove the barrette.

This is becoming more long-winded than I had hoped.

My boyfriend and I adopted a cat last year who has several monikers. Her name at the pound was Emma which we promptly changed to Garry. Then we decided we liked the name Nuit (she's a black cat) but we always referred to her as "the cobra", which has since become her only name. If we ever have children they will no doubt suffer multiple identity crisis's or just end up with really, really bad names.

So the cobra has had a cold the last few days and what I wanted to say originally is, have you ever heard a cat sneeze? Keep in mind I hate most cats but when they sneeze it's really funny.

That's it.