

My mother’s cat, Miss Chiff, is psychotic.
She’s very affectionate and cuddly with my mother, and will attempt to murder all other humans. She’s an adorable little psychopath, she’s a little grey tux, cutest purr, serious laceration hazard. She’s just…touched in the head. I could honestly do without her.
My own cat Izzy is the friendliest cat on earth. She’s laying on the floor next to me, probably wants me to go to bed so she can cuddle up to my arm. She belonged to a relative of mine who passed away, so I adopted Izzy as a senior cat, which has its difficulties. Cat owners can understand what their own cat is saying, because individual cats kind of learn how to communicate with their humans. Well I’m not the one Izzy learned to communicate with, so half the time I have no idea what the little dunce is talking about. Sweet as honey, just…frustratingly incomprehensible sometimes.







Can the average U of A student be expected to read words as complicated as “genetalia”?