And it’s been Dawn and my procrastination to get Adina’s spaying done (and it’s been paid for already) that this inevitable fact has come to light. Ipso facto, little Adina, aka Shitbrick, has been running around the apartment all week in heat. Her meows more resemble growls and passionate moans. When you pat her, she flat out presents itself. No Shitbrick, Daddy ain’t gonna pleasure you (or masturbate you with a Q-Tip).
Enter Tara. I can never understand why animals like to sniff others butts (or my armpits or feet after work for that matter), but it seems when little shitbrick is in heat, Tara has some maternal instinct or further attraction Shitbrick’s privates. But, though the naked eye would indicate just a sniff, the near orgasmic kitten bliss with near eyeballs rolling up into the back of the head indicate something more dire…
Our cats are lesbians.
This must be a sign. All creatures, great and small, do recognize the pleasure element in getting a piece of the cookie. Tara, being a mother herself (she was rescued at 4 months with a litter of her own, abandoned) knows the pleasure of the touch, and knows just how to turn Shitbrick on. And boy oh boy, she does such a good job.
On a functional perspective, the whole sexual dance has one end… the propagation of a species. Reproduction. And maybe this is a key point in Ben Stein’s documentary supporting intelligent design over evolution. It couldn’t have been by accident that reproduction is fun. It had to be programmed in there. Or at least that would be Ben Stein’s argument, as I’ve come to one conclusion as to why he supports the notion of fiction over science. He finally had that religious, earth shattering orgasm, to which like Shitbrick, was found muttering:
OH GOD! YES!
Interdum vos ut volvo ferrus six.
