the brady interview.

I adopted brady from the aspca around february, '02. the people there estimated that she was between one and two years of age, making her roughly six or seven now (i could have had her age 'tested,' but it was like an extra $200; who needs that?). some five years, four apartments, one agonizing three-day disappearance and countless hairballs later, i dont really feel like she's my pet. it's more like she's my roommate. she speaks and acts bizarre a lot, she hangs out with people in the living room, she constantly makes me open and shut my door, she usually sleeps at my feet, she...she's just brady. she's family. maybe this does make her sound exactly like a pet, but i guess i always assumed that most people look at their pets as these cute - but lesser - beings of servitude. perhaps i was being presumptuous. who knows. the point is, i look at brady as my equal, and i recently sat down to talk with her as one.


blue basilica: first of all, what does ‘meow’ mean?
brady: (she stands on her hind legs and makes mocking quote marks with her front paws) first of all, it’s not ‘meow.’ it’s ‘raeow.’ so typical of you humans. you just decide how you want to pronounce something, regardless of how the natives say it. like, you say ‘brooshetta,’ but in italian, it’s ‘broosketta.’
bb: you’ve never eaten anything but cat food, right? just so we’re clear.
b: this is true. of course, you’ve never offered me anything else.
bb: every time i’m eating something, you come over and make a big deal about sniffing it, but you don’t attempt to eat it. ever.
b: next question.
bb: so what does ‘raeow’ mean?
b: look, i have a weak stomach, okay?
bb: you wanted to move on.
b: you’re right.
bb: for the third time, what does ‘raeow’ mean?
b: like ‘shalom,’ or ‘om,’ it means many things. really, it depends on the inflection. the most common translations would be ‘im hungry' or 'how are you?' but it can also mean 'what’s the spread in the game tonight?' and 'every breath you take makes my stomach turn.'
bb: oh c’mon. why would you say that?
b: nothing against you. it’s just that my ancestors are the kings of the jungle and whatnot. sometimes servitude to humans can be sickening.
bb: how do you serve me?
b: your role as a pet owner endears you to human females.
bb: some of them prefer dogs, you know.
b: yeah, but you don’t respect that. dogs don’t belong in the city.
bb: so you admit you are comfortable in an apartment? you dont need to be outside at all?
b: nah, all things considered, your apartments have not been too bad. though there are always lots of bails of cat hair around. i could do without that.
bb: you're joking, right?
b: yeeaaah, joking.
bb: i really hope you were joking.
b: next question.
bb: what music do you like?
b: well, of course anything by cat stevens. although ironically, i prefer harry chapin’s version of cats in the cradle.
bb: that’s not exactly ironic. people often misuse that word. cats too, i guess.
b: raeow. that meant shut it. anyway, my favorite song is ministry’s cover of lay lady lay.
bb: ewww-ee! i feel like you just did your thing in your litter box, with that answer.
b: im a big metal fan. something you dont know about me. from before you knew me.
bb: ive always wondered about those formative years. what happened?
b: you know, i dont like to talk about it too much, even though it's a fairly typical story. i was born in an alley, as part of a litter of four. born in actual litter, actually. so that wasnt so nice. mom died during childbirth. three older brothers, they sold me for some old fishing line. of course i cant much blame them for that - that stuff's mad fun to tangle with, and it smells like fish! anyway, i was on the streets, alone. fell in with a bad crowd. became addicted to cheap catnib.
bb: you mean catnip?
b: no, catnib. that's catnip cut with harmful fillers, like twigs, orange peel, methamphetamine. that stuff made me jumpy.
bb: that actually explains a lot.
b: you actually explain a lot.
bb: well, i can. that's true.
b: okay, now it's out there. now you know.
bb: hey - in light of your jumpiness, what’s with all the perching on precarious surfaces? you seem to like lamping it on the thinnest planes in the living room. For instance, sometimes you’ll spread out on the couch. but more often, you seem to prefer the thin top of the armchair (pictured).


b: oh, that’s easy. you see, cats are like the ancient greeks. we believe in the perfect balance of mind and body for optimal health of both. so when im sitting in a place that you think is risky, it’s usually perfectly comfortable for me. and i know that if my body is maintaining a strict balance, my mind won’t stay far behind.
bb: what do you have to worry about?
b: you know, just because i sit in your apartment all day doesn’t mean i dont have a social conscience. i worry about things like healthcare, fossil fuel emissions.
bb: really?
b: as if! you crack me up, (bean).
bb: you know, you got a lotta lip on you! i didnt realize you were so sarcastic.
b: look who im living with here. and might i add, im sarcatsic.
bb: i like, i like. gimme that chin! (she rubs her chin and jaw into my scratching fingers, as is her wont.)
b: oh, yeah, that's the stuff.
bb: occasionally, youll hiss at someone. though never me. why do you do this?
b: im just keepin' it real.
bb: what the hell does that mean?
b: i have no idea.