Insightful Sundays with Doctor Cat

2010-12-01T22:46:00.000-05:00

Dormant Warrior

A child with seductive smile
Who teaches me to dance
To the drums of the strange tribe.
You take me away from the road called Life
To the labyrinths of your own tales
So euphoric and so fragile.

When I am without you
I fight my battles alone, but
I crave your songs and your touch.
When I am with you, I let the candles burn
My sword is resting
My body loses its’ weight.

The warrior in you is not awaken yet
You look for happiness in dreams
Tribal beat is your escape.
Hunt with me, hunt for me
Share the sword I am carrying
Become a man I am waiting for.

Come now, a man, not a child
I want to feel your spine
Smell your blood, lick your sweat.
Blend your courage with mine
Your arms strong to hold me
If I ever fall down defenseless

Only when the road is clear,
The battle is over, and our soles
Are rough from the same thorns,
Only then I’ll give in to your dreams
I’ll let your caress envelop me,
Your songs - seduce me.

PSYCHOLOGY OF DANCING

2010-08-03T20:33:00.002-04:00

Hello, my lovely cyber fans. Hello, my dearest readers. Yet again, I have to apologize for a long wait. I have to tell you that while not writing I collected so much material that I could probably write a book now. I also expanded my horizons by running away from my Mistress. It took me three days to come back and fall at her feet, purring for forgiveness. There is no cat food sweeter than the one offered to the outdoor traveler right upon the completion of his journey! There is no Mistress’ scratch beneath my chin more sensual and loving than the one I stole by the entrance door on my way back in. There is no sweeter whisper of the keyboard keys than those I am producing now by typing this blog entry. I am in such melancholic mood that in romanticism of my today’s entry you wouldn’t recognize the old Dr. Cat.

Of course, I was tempted to release an entry called “Dinner for Schmucks” discussing the portrayal of modern men in media. This topic is always on the market and we could wait, I am sure, till our next entry to suck every bone on Schmucks’ bodies. Today though, tender from my street adventures of the typically house-bound cat, I would like to expose you to a sensuality of dancing. There are two reasons that influenced the choice of the topic. The first one is my observation of the wild life on the street. It turns out, birds are dancing to attract their mate, so do cats, and even dogs produce some clumsy movement that they dare to call their “mating move”. Trust me, as a creature of grace I despise canine goofiness and total lack of finesse. I might have an entry on that too, but we’ll stick to a graceful topic of dancing for today, shall we?

The second reason that inspired the above topic is a brief story told to me by my Mistress about her dancing outing at a popular NJ club. There she met with a young co-worker, who at their shared work place exhibited no attempts of any kind of closeness. No, I am incorrect. He is a hot Brazilian kid in his late twenties, who exhibits hot behaviors a la Rio carnival with every female in the office. He massages every female’s neck and shoulders with no discrimination based on age, body shape, etc. He is the one to give everyone a hot hello kiss (on the cheek) and good bye kiss of the same level of hotness. My Mistress was a bit concerned with letting him proceed with kisses hello-and-goodbye in the office, as well as with shoulder massages, so they conversed flirtatiously, but kept a distance of two feet in between their bodies. One of the conversations among them took them to the dancing topic and our Fabio suggested that though he is familiar with basic Salsa moves he needs more practice on the dance floor. (For my readers abroad, who are not exposed to American dancing culture – “Salsa” is a dance that Europe is more familiar with under the name of “Mambo”). As most of us know, my Mistress is a big fan of Latin dancing, thus naturally she suggested meeting at one of the clubs for the kid to practice his skills and for her to sharpen hers.

Well, what do you know… Dancing at the club was ok. By “ok”, Mistress meant of course, that the kid at his best was like a dancing canine I mentioned earlier. (She doesn’t like to look at things in a negative light.) But that is not the point. The point is that mating dance is actually somehow a part of human’s existence as well. Their bodies got closer, I am sure. Their breaths mixed. They smelled and felt the hit of the movement. Her dress was tight on her body and one could lick her sweat off her shoulder. Salsa requires knowledge of some intricate footwork plus some natural predisposition to dancing. Marenge and Bachata, however, do not require either, thus the latter are easier to dance and to massage your partner in the process, if you know what I mean. So our Fabio used his charms…Or may be my Mistress provoked the seduction, but by the end of the evening they danced TOO close. When it was time to get home, she drove him to his car, and that’s when the most interesting part of the evening occurred. While she anticipated his usual Brazilian kiss goodbye on a cheek, produced for a million of females in the office daily, the kid suddenly frenched her in an extremely passionate manner. Not only has she not anticipated such bald move, but caught by surprise she was also a bit too late to push him away. So they kissed: she gave her luscious lips for our Brazilian to experiment with. And according to her, he was much better at kissing than he was at dancing….

My Mistress respects bald and unpredictable moves like that. In the universe where men lost heroism, bravery, spontaneity and any sense of adventure, where you can hear “I am afraid to be hurt” from the mouth of a 40-year old, Fabio’s French kiss was an exciting and arousing experience. And she rewarded him with a sensual kiss in response. “Fortune favors the brave!” she always says. Unfortunately, being inexperienced, young, and eager to score, he ended up asking my Mistress to take him home with her. After she said “Good night, dear!”, he applied a pleading line, saying: “Look into my eyes and say you want me to go”. Being who she is, she responded using every sweet note in her voice and looking straight into his hot Latino eyes: “Go home…” And the magic was gone…

We will discuss the ethics of courting in the future. Dr. Cat needs to teach you a few GRACEFUL moves, otherwise we’ll all end up like canines, sniffing each other’s butt in excitement. The point of our current discussion takes us to the dance floor and beyond, exploring the sensuality of movement.

On my free time that I have a lot on my paws , I carefully read my Mistress’ diary. I know, I know… Privacy issues, of course. As a good psychologist, though, I have to have access to such things to dissect every possible emotion of my dear Lady. First of all, who is going to comfort her by purring against her legs at her worst moments? Moi, my dears. So, I simply GOT to read. Secondly, some of her diary’s entries are so arousing, it could stir something even inside of my neutered balls. Wait till I quote a few lines and see if you feel hot. Can’t wait to share… (bad, bad kitty!)

“When I walked into your studio in the winter, I had barely any dancing skills. I was angular and head-to-toe white. By WHITE I mean, that I possessed no Latin hips and no ability what-so-ever to sway my own [hips]. I had a sense of rhythm, though I got to mention that, and knew a few basic steps. You took all those initial ingredients, you stirred them, you mixed them with your own professionalism, passion and determination, you added some magic spice of personal charm to it, and you gave me a new dancing life. Oh no, I haven’t turned into a gracious swan, but I gained confidence, smoothened my angular movements, and I let myself being pushed by you through absorbing new steps and combinations in every class. You know exactly the limit to my capabilities and yet you convince me and yourself, that they are limitless….”

Now, isn’t that arousing? As a cat, I can feel the tension between two people, but we have to read a bit more, don’t we?

“Every day I discover a new way you can touch me and I can touch you back in a dance. A new way to hold my hand in yours, to somehow attach your wrists to my waist, to make my hand slide down your back or to stay on your neck. You made me hold you tight from behind your back and showed me how the body needs to move to look sexier. I will probably never be moving like that, besides those moments when I am attached to your back, hugging you tightly. That’s why you are the MASTER Puppeteer. That’s why it gives me pleasure to listen to your hands. Don’t fight it, you say. Oh, no, I will not. I will give in, I promise. Just like during great love making, you have to have this initial resistance to adjust to the movements of your lover, please, let me resist for a few moments. So the submission is sweeter and more harmonious.”

I am not the cat, who likes clichés. My Mistress is not a big fan of clichés either. We will avoid comparing dance to love making. Why don’t we compare love making to a dance, for a change? A good love-making has rhythm, harmony between the bodies, expression of passion. All these traits are detectable in a well-coordinated dance. Sorry, I took you away from the juiciness of our diary…

“…You body is the fruit of your rigorous exercising. It has a mind of its own. It moves to the music, it is muscular, strong, and flexible at the same time. Your abs look better and better every week, I tell you. And that is true. You work hard on self-improvement, and in your profession that is a lot. It takes work and determination. But this is not the compliment that should make your day. Your teaching skills that engage people and give them joy, your patience mixed with sweat and blood, you giving us the dance – that what is arousing. That is the compliment that should make your day. Our outer shells will inevitably grow older, our gift of joy to people will not “

How sweet. How appreciative of her. I am sorry he will never see these lines. Or maybe I should e-mail him the link to my blog? Dr. Cat is the Master of major Disasters! In any case, from my own perspective, student should learn from the teacher, while the teacher should learn from his students. Opening up to your students’ lives, their passions, their struggles, their sources of joy, could make you a greater teacher…

“We laugh too. Sometimes at what you say during the class, sometimes at my clumsiness, sometimes at dual meaning of our jokes. Te quiero mucho, you say when we go our separate ways. Te quiero mucho, I write back here in my diary. You want more skills from me, more practice, more dancing exposure, more, more, more… But like a great lover would, you should remember, that it is not only you who pushes in, but it is also I, who need to be let in and taken in…”

Let’s put our wet tissues aside. My Mistress gets sentimental at times. As a cat, I need to see the bottom line here. Thus far – it sounds like poetry that I am skeptical about. So, here is the homework for today:

Dissect for me the dynamics behind my Mistress Diary entries.

There is no voting, since the topic is a bit more open than usual and a bit less judgmental. Take it away, dear friends and psychologists. Leave your analysis in the Comment Section below. Purr-purr, until next time.

PASSION, LOST IN TRANSLATION

2010-02-21T11:50:00.002-05:00

Dearest readers, I apologize to all of you for profound delays in delivery of my insights. I missed you all dearly, and I’ll try not to take such expanded breaks in the future, for I am sure, you are burning in anticipation of a new fresh Dr. Cat’s observation. I am not to disappoint you.

As I took a prolonged vacation and attended to cat-related business, I observed numerous peculiar incidents of human behavior that I would definitely like to address. One of them in particular attracted my attention. While counseling my clients I realized that things they say out loud are not the things they meant to say. Further on, things that they meant to say are not the things that they felt. Finally, things they felt are really not the ones they’d like to feel. Obviously, communicating is one of the most challenging aspects of human experience. But what’s even harder (almost impossible) for humans is to interpret communication patterns of others.

As a cat, I have something that is called intuition. Intuition makes me a gr-r-r-reat psychologist, since I’d rather “sense” the problem of my client than “analyze” it. Skillful that I am in using my “sixth sense”, I am almost always right with my diagnosis. Unfortunately, as said in my prior blog entries, humans unlike cats do not trust their guts. They ANALYZE, or they think they do. In reality, these human creatures have no clue about what is thought by their opponent in conversation. But what am I saying? Sometimes they don’t even understand what has being SAID to them directly. And oh, do they have a special talent for misinterpreting!

So, here I am, giving you an insight on some communication patterns. Let’s limit it for our purposes to say the communication of passionate feelings toward each other. Male and female are communicating passion, love, romance, attraction. Mrrrr, take for instance the king of romanticism, Mr. Shakespeare.

”"What's in a name? That which we call a rose/By any other name would smell as sweet." Or, try this: “The stroke of death is as a lover’s pinch/which hurts and is desired”. This one is even better: “This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath/May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet"

Ohhh, “the bud of love”…Isn’t that r-r-romantic? Isn’t that sweet? What woman wouldn’t melt listening to such beautiful lines?!

Unfortunately, or actually, FORTUNATELY, not every man/woman is a poet. Some men/women have to do mundane jobs, like teaching math or cleaning the streets. So passions are usually expressed in more simplistic traditional ways. Just read the hallmark cards: “Be my Valentine”, “You are the light of my life”, or “Lovers forever”… But what about “You are a sexy bitch” or “Mount me. I want you”? Wait a second, did the two last ones make your ears bleed just now? But why, my dears, why?
When I said earlier, that humans have a tendency to misunderstand and misinterpret the messages conveyed by others, I meant exactly that. Not only they are afraid/ashamed to express what they really feel, but also when they do express it, what comes out of their mouth are one euphemism after another. Why does their society make them so “appropriate” and “politically correct” even in their personal life that they are unable to say what they mean to say? Moreover, they are so used to euphemisms, that the “true” language makes their ears bleed.

Take passions for instance. Passion, as per cats’ understanding of it, is something gutsy, crazy, irrational, and sometimes a bit dirty. Like a strong smell, passion attacks you, awakes you, makes you longing for something unexplainable. It’s wild and uncontrollable. Thus the language that describes passion has to be crazy, wild, and uncontrollable. One should say, whatever he/she wants to say in any crazy way they feel it. Passion can’t rhyme, can’t be thought through, can’t simply be “the bud of love”.

“F… me I can’t wait any longer” or “lick me till I am unconscious”. How is that? A bit rough? May be human life will be easier if humans communicate openly? Especially, while expressing their passion to each other. Let’s try first to do it in private comfort of your own home. As your insightful doctor, I’d rather you express it in a way you feel it, than moan something unclear and/or fake, so that your partner is left completely confused. Take for instance the opening lines of the movie “The Invention of Lying”. The main character says, as he enters the apartment of his potential date that he’d never seen before: “Hi”. The heroine: “Hello, you are early. I was just masturbating”. The main character: “It makes me think of your vagina”. Wouldn’t you agree that it’s funny to say the least? But what I am getting at it’s also open and clear. Euphemisms are not a part of the equation.

It seems to me as well, that even when there is an attempt to express passions directly, the receiving part is uncomfortable at times with what has been said. Take the preceding paragraph: “It makes me think of your vagina”? Not romantic at all. At least not to human understanding of it. And yet, if you think about passions in a pure sense of it, you should realize that passion is mostly about sex, and sex is mostly about penises and vaginas. Passion is also about ecstasy that a sexual act offers to persons who experience it (assuming sex is good of course). And ecstasy, ladies and gents, is far from poetry. So, when one is trying to express an ecstatic effect the other is causing, why don’t you just listen and embrace it? Why don’t you take it as a compliment?

Now, let’s work on your expressions. Or should I say, on your interpretation of these expressions. Your male partner says while inside of you: “Oh, baby, you are so tight!” Embrace it. It’s a great compliment. First of all, it wasn’t thought through, because there is nothing pretty in what was said. It is just what he felt, which means it’s the truth. Secondly, it wasn’t said on Valentine’s day, so there is no fake occasion to make you a compliment. Thirdly, it was said in the midst of sexual act, when brains work less than the rest of the body. It was said in precisely the moment that caused your male to experience some ecstatic feelings and he expressed them the best way he could.

Openness in passion: “You are hard as a rock”, “Undress, I want you now”, “Make me wet all over”, “I can feel every inch of you inside”, “Just thinking of you makes me juicy”… Ladies, try these with your men, when you REALLY feel it of course. I am sure any male would give a lot to hear these lines. Openness is sexy. True passion numbs the conscience and silences the poetry. That’s how you know what your partner really feels. Guts, ecstasy, meltdown, tightness of the body, sweat, emotions.
Work on your vocabulary, ladies and gents. Until then, please, answer my question of the day:

Should humans use euphemisms, when it comes to passion, should they be open to express it using the true words, or should they rather say nothing and just moan and groan?

Take the poll on the left, make comments below.
My friends, we part again until next entry.

ARE YOU A GOOD LOVER?

2009-10-18T18:33:00.001-04:00

It seems that my dearest readers started lusting after reading our latest entry about well… lust. Happy to hear that, ladies and gents! Happy to hear that. Numerous readers revealed their experiences to me in our private correspondence during the past week or so. Of course, publishing these stories in our “comment” section would be a little wild, but I just have to reflect on at least one of them. One in particular. A client of mine, whom I have been encouraging and inspiring for years asked me “Am I a good lover?” This dear client has also asked respectful Dr. Cat to share some ideas on what it is to be a good lover.

To all of you, dar-r-rlings, who are reflecting on your close encounters with the opposite sex and who are doubting the quality of your love making skills, Dr. Cat would like to say simply: GET OVER YOURSELF AND ENJOY IT! However, understanding the complexity of human brain versus the simplicity of cats’ brains and habits, I will have to adopt my attitudes and significantly increase my sensitivity level. I am sure the answer above will not suffice to satisfy a human. So I came up with a longer and more sophisticated answer to the question of the day:

Are you a good lover?

A few things we need to realize first. Cats, as you have probably guessed, don’t question themselves on the topics of intimacy. They simply take their risks and proceed. The rest is a task of something that the followers of Darwinism call natural selection. Female cats know whom they would like to procreate with and to whom they would recommend to go and f… themselves. It is simple. Females smell you, analyze the quality of your fur, the scent of your sperm, potential endurance of your manhood and make their decision right then and there. If you are lucky enough you will get some, if you are not – then you’ll proceed to fu…ing yourself, as mentioned above.

I am very positive that human females make very similar decisions on some subconscious level. That is why the first step for a male to being selected is to carefully groom yourself. We are not even talking about love making yet. We are just talking about avoiding doing it all alone. We are talking about being chosen as a potential candidate for coupling. Groom carefully! All fleas have to be gone, the fur has to be shiny, your whiskers – trimmed. Why the hell would a female couple with a guy infested with fleas?!... I am sorry I got carried away a bit and forgot that I am addressing humans. But I am sure you got the gist of this paragraph. In essence, appropriate grooming is a key to a successful selection. That rule applies to women as well. What, the mirror on the wall is dusty and doesn’t tell you “who is the prettiest of them all”? Then fire this damn mirror!

Moving along. Let’s say you are selected by the female/male of your choice. Lucky coincidence. Usually, it’s not the case. Usually, people you find attractive are somehow out of reach. But for the sake of our topic, let’s say you are mutually satisfied with the selection. The games begin right here. That’s where cats and humans are different. Cats would proceed to the nitty-gritty of the encounter. Humans need to play first. Humans need to fantasize, to engage the brain, to think about the next step, to strategize. Dear humans, the first step to failing as a great lover is the thinking process. The more you think, the more you stink. Love making is a process that evolves instincts more than it evolves the brain and its’ left hemisphere in particular. Of course, the game of seduction is an art, and we will need to dedicate a separate Sunday to that. But when the question is posed about the art of love-making, we need to stop strategizing, ladies and gentlemen. We need to start FEELING.

No, the feeling part is not going to happen on the first date most probably. Cats don’t date, humans do. That means, in human’s case FEELING is not going to happen right away…. It’s disappointing, to say the list. Dr. Cat feels bad for humans, who need to suppress their feeling process to comply with societal norms. However, rules are rules, and we abide. Which means a few so-called dates go by before you can start feeling your partner. Oh, yeah, get rid of all your fleas and stay flea free throughout this dating process.

Back to FEELINGS. Here it comes, the moment of truth. That moment alone. The first naked moment. How do I look? How does he look? Lights or darkness? Bed or couch? Before dinner or after? Should we have a drink first? No, no, no! Too much thinking! If you are asking yourself at least one of the above you suck! Insecurities ruin your abilities and talents. Insecurities don’t let them develop. Like in every other field – if you are insecure, someone will beat you to the finish line. Start feeling your partner. Start touching your partner. Don’t rush on this first naked date. Explore. Nothing will be perfect, I assure you. You can’t turn into a swan and seduce Leda, like Zeus did. Why not? Well, you are not Zeus. But you can learn from the story. Zeus knew whom Leda would feel safe with and attracted to at the same time. Swans are graceful and at least look harmless. So, find out what your partner likes. In what ways they like to be touched, caressed, kissed. Again, without rushing, try several ways. Is she sighing? Is he overly tense? What is this spot on the body that makes him/her moan with pleasure? Do not rush with intercourse. Intercourse is probably the simplest of all pleasures.

Like great strategists, first you need to invade and capture weak areas of your partner’s body. These will be your future battlefields, in a loving sense of the word. (By the way, just because you think you look charming, you won’t automatically qualify for a title of a good lover. You can look like Michelangelo’s David, but you may totally suck in love making).

While you are exploring your lover, you need to see if you are having any fun yourself. Pleasing others is wonderful – every intimacy book is about that. But it’s only half of the truth. You need to be capable to know how to use your lover to satisfy yourself. Let your lover be a tool for your pleasure. Passivity will not do. If one thing doesn’t work for you – try another one.

Keep in mind though that every person is different. No generalizations could be made about love making. You could be great with one partner and could leave another totally unsatisfied. That’s why the feeling process is so-o-o important. If someone tells you he/she is a great kisser, it doesn’t mean that they would do as great with you. Take opera, for instance. Some people love it, some – can’t live without it, some – can’t stand it. Same applies to love making. You’d suit someone’s temperament completely, some – you would satisfy from time to time, and some – won’t be able to get any pleasure from you. And if YOU YOURSELF, are barely tolerating your partner, it gets even worse.

Want a practical advice? Conduct your own orchestra. There are no taboos in the art of love making. You make your own music. You need to feel it, you need to give in, you have to let it happen. It’s a harmony that you are seeking between your own body and that of your partner. Like in every art, there is less thinking and more creating, more intuition, more sensitivity is involved. Follow the music inside you, whether it’s the voice of a cello, or the beat of a drum. Wild is good from time to time…as long as it makes you wet.

Dr. Cat has spoken. Now it’s your turn. Tell us about your experiences, ask your questions. Dr. Cat will meow his answers, without pointing a paw. Purr-purr, my dears. Oh, yeah, I promise to answer a question posed by one of our charming readers about our deep dark destructive instincts within a week or two, when my cat’s meows turn into a tiger’s roar.

LUST

2009-10-03T22:22:00.000-04:00

Yeah, so sad… Loneliness is not a popular topic, as was noted by one of our loyal readers. So, as an author who is true to his fans I decided to discuss a definitely more popular topic of Lust. Trust me, cats know all about lust, while humans know…nothing. Here is the field I can conquer in a shorter time than Hitler was done with France. Surrender, my dear readers, for we are to discuss something that I am sure is on your mind, but you are far from even getting close to knowing how to approach it. Learn from the best – learn from Cats!

As per dictionary lust is “To have an intense or obsessive desire, especially one that is sexual”. A bit more from Thesaurus with some synonyms: “A strong wanting of what promises enjoyment or pleasure: appetite, craving, desire, hunger, itch, longing, thirst”. Oh, yeah, that is what humans have: an appetite, a desire, that is unfortunately never satisfied. As a cat I see it all, my dears. Especially the UNSATISFIED part. The problem is – humans got big brains that prevent them from feeding their appetites and enjoying the process. Humans think….and think, and think, and think. How misfortunate for them. Your appetites are there to be satisfied, not thought about. Lust is wild, lust is instinctual, lust is primal, lust is so healthy when pursued.

You, the creatures of brains and habits, are unable to give in. You think you are able? Let’s see. Raise your hand if you got married or are dating a guy/gal who you have lusted after. And I mean REALLY lusted after. What, no one? Trust me, I watch all these so called romantic comedies. All of them without exception make me puke. “Why do you like him/her?” “Because she/he is smart and funny!” Please! Smart and funny? As a cat I don’t understand either smart or funny or a combination of both. Where is a sex appeal in smart and funny? Where is “I want her because I can’t imagine my bed without her? Or I need to make love to her every day?” Where is “Just by looking at him I get all wet?”

How sorry I am for you, dear humans. May be I murr and purr, but I also have very deep conversations with my Mistress to teach her the TRUE way to live. Till recently she was living in total darkness. There were so few pleasures in her life. It was all about duty, responsibility, and other boring ways to exist. Then I was adopted by her and now I teach her to develop her senses, to sharpen them to the extent to which she is able to disconnect her brain and to trust her instincts completely. She makes progress, needless to say. For instance, this morning she came back home glowing. Of course, I smelled the true source of her happiness. She was made love to. Sweetly, sensually, delightfully. My Lady is always well groomed and looks attractive. But this morning she came in and didn’t look well groomed. She rather had this aura of pure sex appeal without the groomed part. Artistic chaos, impro, abstractionism, desire.

Now, let’s see. Which one of you lately had a GREAT sex? The one where you gasp for air, the one that makes you moan from pleasure, that makes your head spin and your body instantly ache for more? What was the last time you were wet, sweaty, and totally careless about how you look or about what position you assume? What was the last time you gave oral because you desperately wanted to, and not because you were asked by your lover (probably several times)? What was the last time you gave in completely without weighing things in your head: am I tired or not; can we do it now – children are in the house? what will she think if I do this or that to her? Etc.
As a cat, I have a great oversight of human lustful activities. Sad to see, sad to comment on. Even the word “lust” on its own presents some kind of a negative connotation. Desire is not right. It’s immoral, human say. Well at least in monotheistic societies they say that. The fact that sexual act is depicted on your TV screen doesn’t mean humans know how to desire. They don’t smell, they don’t touch, they don’t hear. Basically, they don’t know pleasure. They don’t know how to give pleasure. Instead, they look for “smart and funny”. Imagine your whole lives spent with this smart and funny character!

I am not preaching polygamy or anything like that. I am a cat, who knows loyalty. I am loyal to my Mistress and will give my heart for her…as long as she keeps feeding me. What I am trying to preach is for humans to learn to use and to profess in what Mother Nature granted them. Animal instincts. Embrace them, explore them, give in to them from time to time, so you know what it means to LIVE. Go all in. Thinking how much I need to give and what I’d get in return would ruin the flavor, if there ever was any. Give your lover as much as you are able to give at the moment and take as much as he or she is able to give.

Oh, but it might not last you say. These lustful episodes usually don’t last. I agree, sometimes they don’t. Partially, due to a simple obstacle: you just suck at sex. (Sorry to mention!) At times though, it’s because you are unwilling to make your pleasures last. You suppress your desires by coming up with an excuse: I am too old; we are married for so long – it’s boring; that’s a public beach. Well, yes, that’s a public beach, my dears, and yes, you are married/dating for so long, you forgot how your lover smells after you made love to him/her. Shame on you. You need to learn to please and be pleased, you need to look again like a VWSW (very well shagged woman) or man, for that matter. You need to learn to be happy lusting and being lusted after. Does it really matter how long it lasts as long as at that moment you give it all you’ve got? And would you stop judging my cat senses?

Ask yourself: what was the last time my lust was fully satisfied in an unforgettable way?

Vote on the left, comment below, have a great hot night and wake up wet and lusting. Yours truly….

AOLNE BUT NOT LONELY

2009-09-20T11:53:00.002-04:00

Well, my dear readers. Yet another week is over. Sunday is coming to an end, but I am still writing. It was definitely an unusual weekend. The most important event was my Mistress’ Birthday. She was spending it with her friends and her lover, while I was meowing sadly, alone in the house. While sadly meowing, I was reflecting a lot, since there was nothing else to do. My Lady left me for almost 24 hours which is not unusual, but I definitely wanted to be a part of her birthday celebration. It seems however, that bringing cats to birthday gatherings is not necessarily a common thing to do. Imagine, for instance, a Pancake House’s booth full of humans, among whom sits a cat with a pointy birthday hat and sings “Happy Birthday” song to his Mistress. Total confusion for a human kind. Humans think that cats don’t know how to sing. Ha!

My Lady finally came home, smelling of society and sex. That’s the way to spend birthdays! I am happy for her, but a bit upset that although she accepted my intensive purring upon her arrival, she refused to listen to my interpretation of the “Happy Birthday” song. “Why are you screaming like a lunatic?” – she asked. – “Here is your food and milk. No one has deserted the poor kitsy! Mommy is home!” I lost my desire to continue then. Sometimes this woman treats me like a child.
My involuntary isolation during the last 24 hours brought a lot of reflections, as I mentioned earlier. One reflection occurred in response to one of our reader’s questions, raised by my previous blog entry. “What is a REAL woman?” – the reader asked. This reader is not the only one who seeks clarification on gender roles. To assist with such a crucial question I decided to quote a “Housekeeping” magazine, issued in the former Soviet Union in the 60’s. One of my dear cat-friends was kind enough to forward this self-explanatory quote:

“…You have to remember to prepare yourself daily for the time your husband comes from work. Prepare the children: scrub their faces, comb their hair, change their clothes into nice and clean ones. They have to line up at the door to greet their Father, when he comes in. For such an event, you yourself have to wear a clean apron, and try to beautify yourself – for instance put a bow in your hair. Do not attempt talking to your husband, remember how tired he is! He needs to sacrifice himself at work for your sake everyday. Feed him in silence and only after he finished reading a newspaper, you can try to initiate a conversation with him.”
From the same magazine, a quote addressed to male humans: “After the act of intimacy with your wife, you have to let her go to the bathroom, but do not follow her. Live her alone. Perhaps, she’d like to cry a little bit…”.

They used to say, that Russian women are cold in bed. No wonder. The above are the guidelines one should use in his household to teach his woman to be “REAL”. The bow in her hair would especially work. Tell her, she could leave it on for the “act of intimacy”. To close the topic on Gender Role confusion I would like to mention that five out of five voters admitted that they are confused about gender roles. Thanks for voting and commenting. Dr. Cat is pleased.

The other reflection that I had was on loneliness. I spent almost the whole day and the whole night alone, without my Mistress being by my side. I was mad at first. How could she desert me on her birthday? Of course, she left enough food and water to feed a whole cat army. She also cleaned my bathroom. So, service-wise I had no complains. But socially… I need my Lady to come at night. I need to greet her at the door, circle around her legs, meow, get petted by her, get scratched behind the ear, be talked to and talk back. I need to sleep by her side, annoy her early morning when I wake her up, and do all these other social things. I am not a normal cat, though. I am too humanized, if you will, or maybe I become more like a dog (God forbid!). I need more social interaction than any normal cat would. Yet I disagree whey they say, cats get used to places, not people. Normal cats do get used to people, but their affections are not based on a social need. We, cats, give love because we want to and then when the call of the wild wakes up in us, we leave domesticity behind without any regret.

Now, back to a human kind. Are humans really social animals, or they could survive alone and by themselves perfectly fine? I started noticing that my Mistress, for example, becomes more and more catanized, if one could say that. She enjoys her time alone as much as she enjoys her time spent among friends and lovers. It is nice to close the door one day and be able to disconnect. Quiet house, time for yourself, dance classes when wanted, sun tan when desired, reading books on a bench on the yard for hours without being disturbed.

Let’s see, what do humans need society for after all? Originally, people organized in groups for survival purposes: hunting, protection, etc. Now, they seem to group for entertainment purposes: dine together, discuss the events of the day, family reunions. Do they need each other to survive? Definitely not. If every individual human makes enough effort in their adult life – he or she would be perfectly fine all alone. May be a friendly gathering here and there, but in general – no need for 24/7 societal presence.

What started puzzling me recently is this. There are two instances in which the society requires humans to be together under the same roof all the time. One is when a family includes minor offsprings - this is understandable. Who will feed them and clothe them, if not mom and/or pop? Offsprings have to stay with their family until they are allowed by the society to start working and earning on their own. As a cat, I am not too fond of this rule. Kittens become adults much earlier than humans. Human teenagers are such a drain on the system! And an unnecessary drain, may I notice! But, society is too soft these days, so be it.

The other instance when humans are forced by the society to stay under the same roof is when married. I wonder, what’s the need for that. A normal man as well as a normal woman can survive on their own perfectly fine. Earlier, marriage served certain societal purposes. Financial – women couldn’t occupy equal labor niches, so they needed a man to support them. Procreation – society needed to multiply. Alliances – nobility married for ensuring peace between countries.

Nowadays, remind me is any of the above applicable to middle class humans? I think it’s a rhetoric question. Then, why every time a married woman travels alone, she is asked: how did your husband let you go? Why if humans understand that there is no need for a LEGAL husband or wife, they still officially get married…and then divorce as quickly? Why in my counseling sessions married women feel guilty most of the time about doing something on their own, like taking a class, pursuing education, or going out, because it takes time away from their family time (meaning “husband” time)? Social interaction outside marriage is in so many cases much more pleasant than within the marriage. Brief revision: sex is sweeter, less routine when humans are not married; conversations are more interesting when two people don’t see each other every night; there is no social pressure as to what role should each one play in marriage; finally, humans tend to appreciate other humans more when the doze of interaction is limited to a few hours a week. United by society, humans start taking everything for granted: “Well, he/she is my husband/wife – he/she GOT to do that, like all married people do.”

Besides, being alone is not embraced enough. Meditate, clear your thoughts, enjoy the inner peace. Just lie down in your bedroom and listen to silence. Close your eyes – there is nothing that could possibly interfere with pleasursome solitude, unless you really want it to be interfered. Think about an hour in your day, when no one, and I mean NO ONE talks to you. As a cat, I know how important that is. And though I missed my Mistress when I started writing this, I realized that her constant presence is not necessary. I love her more because I don’t see her every minute of my day.

My question to humans is this: What is the reason(s) for mandatory social alliances, like marriages, these days? Please, comment on that below.
Second question: from your perspective, what period of your life was most joyful: when married or when single? Vote on your left, please.

My dearest, you reflections are essential. Thanks for your contributions! I rob against all of your legs and purr intensively for every one of you. My purrs and love to all until next Sunday.

Gender Role Confusion

2009-09-06T10:03:00.001-04:00

Dearest readers! Congratulations! Sixty-six percent of the voters on our topic of passionate vs. scheduled sex decided to vote for passion. As an animal, for whom scheduling is never an option in love affairs, I salute you, humans, for picking the difficult though adventurous labyrinth of passion and going against the asphalted road of scheduling.

Speaking of passion, I am all in tears watching “Brokeback Mountain” with my Mistress. We are both in tears. Poor gentlemen in this movie need to hide their real feelings for each other, need to get married and produce offsprings against their free will, because the society around them doesn’t accept same-sex love. In this movie acting is so good that you practically feel their pain of loneliness and separation. That is a very miserable existence, I shall tell you. Here I am, for instance, loved and petted by my dearest Mistress, fed well and taken care of. And what can I possibly offer in return? My occasional purrs? My weekly blog publications, where I disclose some of her pitiful encounters with weird gentlemen? Sh-sh-sh, she doesn’t know about the blogs, otherwise I’d probably be sent back to the animal shelter or to some kitty boot camp for disrespectful cats. I tell you, I won the luckiest cat lottery ever!

But why am I in tears watching the “Brokeback Mountain”, I asked myself? Oh yeah, the forbidden love! Something else is bothering me though. I can’t quite put my paw on it. Here it goes –crying men in the movie make me sentimental. Since when have we, males, become so sentimental? Well, fine, I am a neutered cat and my balls are the size of a peanut. Literally. I believe we discussed it in my last blog. So I am entitled to sentimental exhibition of feelings. Latest generation of human males, on the other hand, exhibits so much sentimentality, insecurity, and drama lately that I am surprised they are not growing bosoms. We are witnessing the bosomisation of the male species, ladies and gentlemen. Females are not any better. They are moving the opposite direction – toward the cockanisation.

Let’s review, shall we? Here is a little multiple-choice question. Who could be described as all of the following: Strong, Sniper, Business owner, Tankist, Doctor (Ph. D), Professor, Program Director, Company’s President, Karate class student, driving stick shift, Head of the household, financial provider?
A. Michael Jackson
B. Ellen DeGeneres
C. President Obama
D. My Mistress
E. Brad Pitt

And the winner is…D! I am ashamed to tell you that my dearest Lady bits all of the eligible bachelors, including the deceased one – may he rest in peace, and the lesbian. My Lady IS the eligible BACHELOR. I always tell her, how proud I am of her accomplishments. But that what I tell to her face. When I gossip with local cats in the yard, I am trying to downplay my fear of that day, when her pretty face would start growing beard. No-no, don’t get me wrong, she is very feminine on the outside! Yet looking at her accomplishments without mentioning her name, almost anyone would tell you that they envision a man behind the titles.

What is wrong with the society of today? Where are strong protective men, who won’t grow cold in the face of a mini challenge? Where are the women, who remember how to cry? I have two theories about this gender role confusion. One is that as a result of all these 20th century wars last masculine men died. We were left with the female majority who needed to endure a burden of rebuilding their countries in the post-war period, while raising a new generation of men. They did relatively good on the first rebuilding task, but failed miserably on the second. Knowing that males are precious in the post-war era, women protected the new generation of boys so much, that as a result they raised “girly men” (great expression by Arnold Shwarzenegger).

Another theory has to do with scientific revolution. Think about it. Men used to hunt, to plow the land, to build with their hands, to protect their families with bows and arrows. Today, none of the listed is required of a man. Technology could pretty much take care of all the basics. So, while women are advancing by using technological progress to become independent, men are losing their manhood as a result of a lack of outlet for their physical and mental abilities.

Now, hear me out. When you can’t show how strong and smart you are, and when there is no physical struggle and a need to compete, you could definitely become a total wuss. On the other hand, becoming more and more independent, while having educational advantages, makes you …well, stronger and more secure.

If I were a human male, I would of course, fight for my male rights. Not by applying force, but rather by trying to make my female feel feminine. For men, uneducated in such intricacies, making females feel feminine would include all of the following and more:
A. letting them know they are desirable
When you want to be with a woman, say it out loud to her face. Thoughts like “Oh, God, if I tell her I want her and she rejects me, I am going to get hurt!” – total cowardice. Gentlemen, at some point in our history men were killed hunting mammoths, and THAT was REALLY hurtful.

B. making love to them skillfully, so they WANT to make love to you
Proceeding with the business of self-satisfaction and then moaning the following night that she refuses to sleep with you – funny. Learning how to seduce and satisfy your woman – manly.

C. taking charge and being creative
“What do you want to do tonight?” “I don’t know, what do YOU want to do?” “But what do YOU want to do?”…Got the flavor?

D. knowing how to lead (in dance or otherwise)
Unfortunately, this generation lacks true leaders. Thus, even some sign of creativity in leadership is greatly appreciated. Men exhibiting charming power – what could be more seductive?

E. learning how to converse and knowing how to engage your female
There is nothing more delicious than an intelligent conversation. Conversing usually takes two. They say female is used to do too much talking and poor males need to listen. I am sorry, but even cats in my yard could engage in a dialogue. If a man knows how to interest his female in a conversation, so they both discuss something of interest, it could become a DIALOGUE, and not a solo.

F. paying for things (oh yeah!). Should I comment on that?

I can continue on and on. Sometimes, I turn my head around and see no men left. I only see females, who actively turn themselves into males. How about the simplest example. Female: “Dear, I am pregnant.” Male: “Oh my God, what are we going to do? Is it even mine? How we are going to support it? I am not ready!!!” Female [calmly]: “Ok, babe, I am going to look for a second job”. Ladies and gentlemen, what planet are you from?! Where is an age-old pride of having an offspring? We, cats, are very proud when we make our females pregnant. Here they are all fat with 16 (no less!) kittens in their belly, all of whom are created by our freshest sperm. Another example. A male [to his friends]: “I date this chick for nine years, but I don’t want to take a next step in these relationships. I am afraid to get hurt, like it happened 20 years ago with another chick”. I am going to get HURT! What exactly is so hurtful, gentlemen, eh?

Women are no less annoying, though. No matter how much I am in love with my Mistress, she does everything wrong! And her lady-friends make the same mistakes. My Lady never asks for anything, no one ever sees her tears, she gives all of herself without being ever taken care of and given to (isn’t that the male’s role? the strong should give to the weak?), she leads the way, she helps everyone, including her boy-friends, and when they hurt her (yes, they do), she never admits it to them. One of her acquaintances told her once: “You made it so easy! I felt like I could come and leave any time I want”. Shmack.

Dear females, here are some of the tips on losing your beards:
A. Let it go and let the man lead.
Though it might be a poor exhibit of leadership at first, things could get better in the future. They (males) are not as useless as you think.

B. Wear a dress, heals, and a very sexy lingerie.
Do it for yourselves. What, you don’t own these things, or you forgot how to wear anything besides pants at work and sweats at home?

C. Know how to want things and be able to ask for them.
“Oh my God, if I tell him that I want or need something, he’ll think I am needy and annoying”. If you think that, you are NOT dating a man. Check his masculinity again.

D. Don’t you ever pay for anything!
I know, I know. Of course, you can do it yourself. But let your male show you that THEY can do it too, that they are capable of supporting you, feeding you, taking care of you, buying you little things. Can you do it? Or like a herd of bisons, you run in the prairie clearing all on your path, showing your strength, power, and blind determination. But to what, to whom? Women, stop, sto-o-op! While running in the prairie like bisons, all strong and independent, I think you stepped on some good men out there and probably crushed them accidentally… To summarize, men, don’t be afraid to show your strength and women, consider to show your weaknesses once in a while.

That all said, here is our question of the day:

Are we gender-confused or it’s a one crazy cat’s personal opinion?

Of course, the voting poll is on the left, as usual. I am eager to hear your comments, no matter how confused they might be, my darlings. The comment space is below. It was a pleasure meeting you all again, and purr-purr till the next time…

Love me on Mondays and Tuesdays...

2009-08-30T15:33:00.003-04:00

While licking my private parts the other day, I noticed that my balls are not big enough. Well, at least I was somewhat lucky to keep these balls. Neutered cats of older generations didn’t get to keep them at all. Still not too much comfort, though. Size DOES matter. Balls do matter and whatever comes in the package along with them. At least to cats it does. Humans are trying hard to comfort each other when it comes to their imperfections, it is unbelievable! A cry: “My thing is too small, oh-h-h!” An answer: “It’s OK, dear, size doesn’t matter”. A cry: “I am too fat, oh-h-h!” An answer: “It’s OK, dear! You’d always look beautiful to me. Here, have some snack.” Another cry: “Look, no matter how many sit-ups I do a week, two or three, my abs look like a watermelon!” An answer: “Don’t you kill yourself, baby. Exercises might exhaust you. You are so cute and cuddly (or Big and Beautiful, or whatever other euphemism there is)!” Or, here is my favorite, once mentioned to my Mistress while she was on top: “Oh-h-h, it hurts!” My lady and I were laughing for the next five years at this one.

Such wussiness isn’t accepted in our cat universe. Too small – no sex, too big – no sex, too weak – no sex. Female cats are picky and the winner has it all. However, I need to say, that although humans are much more sensitive and accepting (see paragraph above), some of my male human clients started complaining about the increasing pickiness of their female species. Apparently, it gets harder and harder to get into females’ pants. Please, excuse my directness. When I moderate a group of human males, we skip the euphemisms and call things their true names. Soooo, it seems that while we talk about sex quite a lot, we have sex very rarely. By “we” I mean the male half of human species, of course. My initial reaction to the complaint on lack of sex would be as follows: “Shape up, stop moaning, and go get it! Or I’ll scratch your miserable ass!” However, as an experienced cat-counselor and as an expert on purring (whatever that means), I started having second thoughts about reacting so abruptly.

Two things led me to these second thoughts. One was licking my private parts and noticing the uncomfortably miniature size of my balls, as mentioned earlier. If it feels uncomfortable to me, it might in fact feel uncomfortable to my human clientele. And I don’t mean balls in particular, I mean size in general. Another thing was reading some excerpts from a book called Rashi’s Daughters by Maggie Anton. Now, just to let you know, that Rashi is a Hebrew acronym for Rabbi Shlomo ha Yizhaki. He is considered one of the greatest Jewish scholars, the author of the first printed commentary on the Talmud. Which reminded me: thank God they don’t circumcise cats, but just neuter them. Imagine having both procedures executed! What would be left? Oi!

Back to the Hebrews, though. There is a law, stressing the impurity of a woman while she is menstruating. Oh, I forgot to warn our male human readers. This part of the blog is rated B&M for Bloating and Menstrual Content, which may be dangerous to the sensitive ears of males. Who wants to hear about woman’s period after all?

Sorry for distancing myself from the topic, but I need to mention here that a cat in hit is the hottest lay ever!!! Just a smell of her would make your head spin and your whiskers uncurl. A woman in heat is as great. First – the smell that is unfortunately underappreciated by human males is incredible. Males are just unable to smell the scent of the juice of life. Second – this is the only time she doesn’t need to worry about contraception. And so don’t you, gentlemen. No condoms, no vagina robber circles (what’s this thing called? Wonder bra? Wonder bread? Oh, yeah, membrane!), no spermicidal films and foams! Freedom from all interfering elements. You and the volcano of love. Wouldn’t you agree that it’s the greatest lay?! So it’s a little bloody – who cares. M-r-r-r. That reminds me that one of my lady’s long-gone acquaintances once said: “Period, eh? I don’t do periods!” What an idiot for voicing such idiocy. And what an idiot…PERIOD.

Yet again, I am desperately trying to get back to some Jewish traditions. Based on the above mentioned book and on a well-known Jewish law, women are impure during their periods and according to some religious commentaries this impurity also lasts seven days after their period. Men are not supposed to touch them or approach them with any pursuit of intimacy. Dr. Cat will leave this without any comments, since Dr. Cat cannot support such a challenging rule of abstinence.

The ultimate question of this discussion is not about the above tradition, however. Let’s proceed. After her menstrual cycle is over and seven days afterwards pass, a female would immerse herself in water, become clean and shiny again and thus becomes available for men. Husbands then jump their wives’ bones and enjoy them intensively after long and torturous two-week or so waiting period. What a feast that is! Since one of the commandments is to be fruitful and multiply, I am sure the couples diligently perform their task. Now, let’s look at that from another angle. Roughly twelve days a month your woman is impure. Yet after her immersion in water, she is ready to perform her multiplication duty. And so do you. Suffer a bit from impurity, but then indulge in the volcano of love, observe the commandment with zeal and excellence. No chase, no games, no withholding sex. No excuses, such as “my legs hurt from standing in the kitchen, so there will be no woopies tonight”, or “I am menopausal since I turned 30, so I have no sex drive”. Oh no, nothing like that. It’s rather: “I am clean again, darling, so let’s practice multiplication and please God at the same time”.

What are you saying, my male friends? Forget seduction, an empty wind of pursuit, a half-drunk lady on a bar stool. Forget mental efforts you need to make to convince your wives to have a quickie. Forget the sad flavor of rejection. Just follow the cycle: impurity, immersion, erection, eruption - impurity, immersion, erection, eruption - impurity, immersion, erection, eruption, and so on… I am sure, you’ll have more sex than you have ever dreamed of. And it’s all for divine purposes. Who cares about your size under such circumstances?!

Our females, I mean the human ones, will oppose to the above, of course. What do you mean, they’d say. No romantic pursuits? No pleasures of flirtatious play? Just some dry schedule? My Mistress herself is a big fan of the art of seduction. But she is my special case, after all. She doesn’t say “my leg hurts…”. She says: “Come, dear, and I’ll kiss your boo-boo!” Then she kisses you, playfully runs her little fingers through your back from the neck down, and settles on your lap applying the whole delicious weight of her behind on your loin that trembles in anticipation. She, the lady of my fantasies, will be the first to tell you not to schedule your love making right after the purifying shower. Let’s have it right here, right now. Let’s have it before the period, during the period, and after the period. Pure or impure. Devine or diabolic. Just come and win me….

And here is the problem: you need to win them, to ask them, to want them, to pursue them, and to seduce them. The minute you relax – it results in no sex. (It rhymes! I am a poet!!!). My dears, we finally made it to the question of the day:

What would be more appealing to you: sex as a reward for your creative and worthy courtship or sex on scheduled dates?

Please, comment below by clicking on the Comment link, vote using the pole on the left, and invite your friends to read, discuss, and laugh with you.

Purr, purr, my friends, until next Sunday. I kiss you pawsies, dear ladies.

GAY OR A 45-YEAR-OLD VIRGIN?

2009-08-23T17:47:00.000-04:00

Of course, if you are a male cat, your virginity would be inevitably lost in your early teens to some older “cougar”, who smells like streets, steak bone, and surprisingly like your mother cat. The latter smell is so Freudian and so attractive, that you have almost no power to meow your protests. Not that you want to. It all happens somewhere by a garbage container in a dark dirty street corner with the background noise of screaming ambulances as an accompaniment. Nothing could stop your virginity to leak out of you in a bit more than two seconds. The experience is so anti-romantic, so urban, and so unforgettable, that you’d keep it in your memory forever, but would probably never want to repeat it. The cougar is usually not enticing at all and has been with you solely for satisfying her own basic urges.

From there on you learn your best to court the cats that you like, to sniff their butts intensively and to lick behind their ears for foreplay’s sake, to serenade by their windows especially in the spring (for some reason humans find our serenades disturbing and think we are screaming) and to win their affections as well as their …bodies. I had a word “puss” on mind, but given the circumstances and the sensitivity of humans, I decided against it.

Female Cats, as well as, female humans, I suppose, appreciate a good foreplay. The longer you serenade, the more pleasure it causes to female ears. And when the ears are pleased, the other body parts usually “weaken”. Which should work for you, human male species. We can assume that the longer you practice your serenading the better you become at it. I heard such erotic serenades by a one-eyed cat, named Pirate, that if I were a female cat, I would turn my butt to him at no time. Unfortunately, Pirate was so old by the time he professed at his serenading that he wasn’t able to climb on any female whatsoever.

Now, what if you are reaching Pirate’s age and still didn’t learn how to serenade? And I am not talking only about singing per se, you know. Human females are into touching and caressing, licking, and what they call “kissing”. So, you don’t know how to do all that. Or maybe you think you do, but females run away from you like if you were a Purple dinosaur Barney, offering them a quickie. What exactly is wrong with you? Or is there a problem with the females you pick?

Let’s offer a concrete example, shall we? A guy, named Sam was recently introduced to my Mistress. They spoke on the phone several times before they met in person, and as per my analysis of these conversations, they “clicked” as humans would call it. My Mistress laughs echoed in the room of our house, and the phone dialogues lasted for more than an hour each time, which indicated to me that the guy was singing high quality serenades.

Then it was time to meet. My lady was invited to meet Sam near his location, which, as I understood, was not too convenient to get to, or to close to begin with. I was trying to talk my Mistress out of such a visit. Self-respecting male cats would definitely walk an extra mile to meet a female of their interest. Such should apply to male humans as well. Excuses like “I am tired to walk/drive”, or “My commute to work is too long, so it’s YOU, who should be visiting ME” are not a big turn on. However, my Mistress decided not to rationalize. She courageously drove to a strange location to meet with the male person. Let me tell you, she came back totally confused.

I thoroughly questioned her on the topic. What happened was the following. They met and went to a cute restaurant where they had a relatively open conversation about their daily schedules, work, and other details, that humans tend to discuss on their first date. One observation she made at that time was that Sam wasn’t ready to talk about his personal life. What was voluntarily revealed was that he was 45, not married and has no children, yet has a more than 1000 items in his DVD movie collection. The only serious relationship he mentioned was with one of his former females who supposedly pressured him to marry her after 6 months of living together. His comment following this story was: “Well, as she presented such an ultimatum, things didn’t feel right afterward. I felt trapped and uncomfortable, and so we broke up.” That made sense to my sensitive Mistress and she even expressed her sympathy.

Then it was time for Sam to demonstrate his true male qualities. They are out of the restaurant, on darkening streets, walking shoulder to shoulder. Sam takes my Mistress by her shoulders, turns her to face him, and sticks his lips out. You know, the same way you’d blow a kiss to someone? That was Sam’s way. My Mistress responds with similar pouty lips, and so they kiss for a while. Though my lady is an experienced and sensible kisser and can wake a dead from a grave with her kiss (or so I found out by interviewing one of her former male partners, or “boyfriends” as they say), with Sam it felt like kissing a marshmallow. Pouty lips and nothing more.

They proceeded to the car and after driving a few blocks, Sam asked her to park. They park, and Sam is eager to kiss her again. Now, it’s time to French her. I was all ears, when she was telling this part of the story. What do you think? His lips, still pouty, were sticking out the same way they were a few minutes ago while both of them were kissing on the street. However, this time, there was a tongue between them. And this tongue was still. And I mean still! No movement what so ever! Dead! Just the same as if you’d stick out your tongue to tease a 6 year old. My poor Mistress needed to work around it. Comparing this to a French kiss would be like comparing a door bell sound to that of a church bell. And to top it all with a final trade move, Sam put his hand on her breast, moaning intensively, as if he were a wounded bear, not a seductive lover. The hand on the breast was as still as was his tongue. No caressing… What am I saying, not any kind of movement, like one would hold an apple!

Well, that did it. My lady said to Sam: “Darling, your hand is on my breast!” The Darling answered with a sigh: “I know”… And then he proceeded by asking her, if she wanted to come upstairs to his place.

The next morning there was a text message on my lady’s phone, authored by Sam: “Well, what are your thoughts about our meeting? Please do tell”. And then there is a voice message, started with “Hello, gorgeous!...”

Now, ladies and gents, my cat head spins in attempt to solve the mystery. While questioning my Mistress on her feelings regarding the events of that night I got one rather funny comment. She said, when I kissed him I felt my mo-jo ran away back home screaming. From the above I could conclude that the intimate part of the date wasn’t that arousing. Which brings me to the Doctor Cat’s question of the day:

Is our hero gay or is he a 45-year-old virgin?

There were a few versions originated by our friends. One, coming from female friends suggested that Sam is gay, who has some ulterior motive, like getting married for the purposes of hiding his true sexual preferences. This version was based on listening to the voice message with “Hello, gorgeous…” and on analyzing total lack of kissing/caressing experience. Another version, coming from male sympathizers suggested that such unarousing approach may well be coming from a virgin. Things happen, as they say.

Now, it is up to you to give your input, darlings. Purr, purr, until the next time….Oh, and please, DO TELL!!!