Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Feline Education

Train accidents, baby-snatching, nuclear power plant accidents - all manner of terrible things happen because people weren't paying attention for a few moments. So Neutrino's trying to help us, training us not to leave anything unattended for even a single second.

(Note: when you have to bring up nuclear disasters and kidnapping to turn your pet's behaviour into a good thing, there may be room for improvement).

He's not a cat - he's a glass-seeking missile. You'd be safer leaving a drink inside a pinball table because there's a small chance the ball will fall between the flippers, but none that Neutrino will miss. You've be better off just dropping your drink and hoping gravity doesn't notice (which still wouldn't work, as Neutrino would soar through the air to take it out moments later.)

You can tell he's trying to teach us - on the few occasions we've had more warning than a loud crashing (from another room), a low swearing (from ourselves), and the patter of tiny quadruped feet (running like hell), he knows exactly what he's doing. He locks eyes with you then reaches out his paw - magnetically attracted to the breakable by some unknown fifth force of the universe - and taps it over.

Some people talk about baby-proofing their homes, but we're way ahead of them: any toddler would need special forces demolitions training to outdo our existing Neutrino defenses. And as any physicist will tell you, it's wasted: you can't keep neutrinos out of anything - they almost completely ignore normal matter until they hit it. Scientists use vast tanks of chlorine. I can do the same with a single martini glass (or at least I could, but no longer have a single martini glass. Or regular glass. Or several varieties of cup.)

His other favorite things are trash bins, or "Neutrino Present Collection Vessels" (as they apparently translate into feline). Throw something in and he's there like he heard sleigh bells on December 24th. Again, it's all for the best: training me to empty the bins approximately every minute, or sometimes skip the bin and just carry every piece of trash direct to the disposal.

And do we still love him? Of course we do. Would I love anyone else who rummaged through my trash and smashed my stuff? Since the only other type of person who does that is a stalker, I'll have to get much more famous to find out.