At least, not yet. Which is not to say it won’t happen eventually, but I’d prefer that eventuality to be a long time in the future.
Until that (hopefully) far off day, there is Granny Weatherwax-style headology, because every day I can remind myself that I aten’t ded is a good day. After all, things can always improve (and it’s a very, very bad idea to tell yourself that they can’t get any worse, because something out there takes comments like “it can’t get worse” and goes out of its way to prove you wrong). Besides, there are few things more soothing than a purring cat insisting that you need to be loved. Right now.
Even Her Royal Highness Princess Buttercup, she of the voice that bends steel, is remarkably soothing when she’s snuggled up on my lap or in the bed and purring away. It’s really only when she’s telling us of the horrible indignities in her life (the kibble bowl is empty! Whatever is a spoiled kitteh to do?) that the full steel-bending experience cuts in. She is Siamese, after all. She does not do dulcet.
In contrast, the boys chirp. Midnight has a deeper voice than Westley, and doesn’t talk as much. He doesn’t need to – if someone needs to get a human’s attention, Buttercup is the designated Speaker to Humans. Westley just likes to let me know he’s around (and maybe beg for some extra attention because no kitteh ever had too much attention). Midnight prefers to park himself somewhere obvious and give the poor pitiful me look when he wants attention. It’s truly amazing how pathetic a determined basement kitteh can make himself look – despite him being the biggest and most solidly built of the three.
Westley prefers the derpy look. We keep telling him his tongue is going to dry up and fall off, but I don’t think he believes us. Not the way he keeps sleeping with his tongue out giving us the full derp look.
On second thoughts, when I do end up dead, can I come back as a pampered house cat? Sleeping 20 hours out of 24, with my biggest worries being convincing the humans to pet me or give me extra food… sounds positively delightful.
(And yes, Westley tends to get photographed more because he likes to be photogenic on my desk)