Leave the Gun
Last night, to my pleasant surprise, the Godfather was on TV. It's true that I own the whole set on DVD, so it shouldn't be that big a deal, right? But that's not the point. When movies that good come on television, even if I own them, I watch them anyway — weird neurotic thing, I guess. You bite your nails, I watch films too much.
Anyway, it's one of my favorite movies, but even more importantly, it is my cat's single favorite movie. Seriously.
He has one video with birds and squirrels and stuff that fascinates him like crazy, but only for about 15 minutes (I think he runs out of bird-chasing energy or something), but when the Godfather is on, he'll climb up on the couch and watch the whole damn thing.
And I mean it could be a lot worse, for example, say, a cat who only watched porn and monster truck racing. I'd have to count that a bit more disturbing. So, I figure, by those standards, at least, my Corleone-obsessed cat is pretty normal.
Not knowing what else to do in the situation, with a rush of activity I whipped up some four-cheese tortellini (because how often is it that even a cheese freak like me has the right cheeses to do something like that?), opened a bottle of Banfi Col di Sasso I'd picked up last week, and climbed onto the couch with the cat just in time to see Sonny get aerated at the tollbooth. Good stuff.
And, if the cat learns to say "Molto bene!" to a generous Iams refill, all the better.
Anyway, it's one of my favorite movies, but even more importantly, it is my cat's single favorite movie. Seriously.
He has one video with birds and squirrels and stuff that fascinates him like crazy, but only for about 15 minutes (I think he runs out of bird-chasing energy or something), but when the Godfather is on, he'll climb up on the couch and watch the whole damn thing.
And I mean it could be a lot worse, for example, say, a cat who only watched porn and monster truck racing. I'd have to count that a bit more disturbing. So, I figure, by those standards, at least, my Corleone-obsessed cat is pretty normal.
Not knowing what else to do in the situation, with a rush of activity I whipped up some four-cheese tortellini (because how often is it that even a cheese freak like me has the right cheeses to do something like that?), opened a bottle of Banfi Col di Sasso I'd picked up last week, and climbed onto the couch with the cat just in time to see Sonny get aerated at the tollbooth. Good stuff.
And, if the cat learns to say "Molto bene!" to a generous Iams refill, all the better.