Joe, Joe, He Don’t Know

I was hanging out with Joseph M. Paws the other day. We played the Biting Game, which consists of him flipping over on his back and sticking out his chest until I scratch it, and then biting me, and then looking at me like, “What? Scratch my chest” and so on. And as this was going on, I looked into Joe’s eyes, and I realized that he has not one single thought in his head.

Joe, you see, is kinda dumb. Brainwise, he has more in common with a golden retriever than a normal cat. For example, not too long ago I was over at Sean’s, and Sean left the apartment to take out the garbage. I was then treated to some insight into Joe’s love for Sean: As soon as Alpha Man left, Joe ran over to the door and stared at it. He looked fully prepared to do this all day if necessary, and I can only assume he does just that whenever Sean goes to work.

Cute, right? It gets better. After a minute or two of staring, Joe’s wee eyes sort of fuzzed. He lost his focus on the door, and then he looked around, like, “Dang, I was waiting for something. What was I waiting for? Hmmm. Hmmm. Wait! There’s a door here. Maybe I’ll stare at it and see what happens. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Wait. What am I doing by this … thingie. What’s called? A dooo…dooorrrr…”

And then Sean came in and it was like Christmas all of sudden, with the yowling and the prancing around.

Joe: Pretty, but not real bright.

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3 thoughts on “Joe, Joe, He Don’t Know

  1. Sounds like my dog, Noah (a black Lab mix). He’ll bark to go out and when we get outside start sniffing madly for the perfect spot to do his business. Then, he’ll get distracted by something; a car, someone walking down the street, even a butterfly. After looking at the distraction he’ll come sit by me and look up to say, “Thanks for taking em out.” Nothing can then entice him to complete his task. Ten minutes after returning into the house, bodily functions will again take over and he’ll be barking again. Of course, if there’s just a little wind or rain outside, he’ll also start barking, the big coward.

  2. AH.. PET love STORIES.. OK, so here’s mine: I have a pet, too. She’s a tin whistle. She’s very purebred, has papers and everything. When I go out without her, she just sit’s around, her poor holes longingly staring into space waiting my loving touch.

    I know what you all will say, she can’t be a pet because she doesn’t eat or shit on the carpets, but that is very narrow minded of you, you are way wrong, becasue OH YES!! My whistle DOES have a PERSONALITY.

    YES, she DOES!

    People who see her always want to pick her up, she’s so cuddly, and she sings so sweet!

    NO, that’s S.W.E.E.T, not TWEET! My, my, my! How you dog and cat lovers are prejudiced against whistle-people. Come on now, admit it, she’s MUCH more devoted than a fish or a actually. even most cats (present company excepted, of course.. Sean’s must be very exceptional, even if he can’t sing or pack in your back pocket, and only has two eyes.)

    ANYway, back to my pet… what do mean, I’m EXAGERATING!? On you just don’t understand. My whistle, she’s so sweet (except for that upper octave F, which I admit is rather shrill, but that’s MY fault not hers…………..

  3. My cat is smarter than me. I know this because I always end up giving her whatever she wants. But she is a kind master.

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