I talk to animals. Like, I have conversations with them. Is that weird? Probably, but I can’t help it. I have the Doctor Dolittle Syndrome. Ever since I saw that movie when I was a little girl (the musical from 1967 mind you) I became convinced that much like Rex Harrison I had godly talents and could converse freely with any sheep that strolled by. After a few uninspiring attempts to talk to my neighbor’s horse, I realized that I couldn’t talk to just any animal. The animals that I felt comfortable rambling to about the facts of life (please, no comment, I already know that I’m crazy) were the ones that were close to me, that I knew.
My cat is unusually social. She is, to me, quite a contradiction in in of herself: she’s independent and throws mice against our door like the murderer that she is and yet she always seems to be hanging around when people are outside (and not threatening to run her over with a tractor). Because she is extremely social, she is often my target when it comes to late night musings. Yes, I know, I talk to my cat. I’m the quintessential loser, but I love her anyway 🙂 With her, there is no need to use a ‘special’ voice, I can just talk normally. And she answers with emphatic MEOWS and more conservative meows, depending on her opinion on the subject. Then again, she may be telling me to f*ck off. I don’t know, I don’t speak cat (Doctor Dolittle fail).
When it comes to Cooper, my dog, I feel obliged to use my baby voice. There is something about his wide brown eyes and floppy ears that kicks my motherly instinct into action (even though I’m only 15. Geez). And yet I don’t have any trouble insulting him… I think my motherly instinct is quite twisted. Cooper, while being a very smart dog, is also very stupid in some aspects of his everyday life. Contrary to his best friend the cat, he doesn’t listen to all the words I say with equal attention. Noooo, he’s only interested in the words having to do with food and boots. That may be why I swear at him a lot.
Anyway, I guess I’ll just end up being that crazy old lady who talks to her pets too much and makes everyone feel a little sad for her. But you know what? I’m happy to be the victim of the Doctor Dolittle Syndrome for a couple more years. After that, I might start scaring the boys off. And that, this teenager does not want to do. But I will never abandon my pets completely. Ever. Um… Until they die. *cries a little*
Live long and prosper \V/
The Mostly Confused Teenager.
PS: IGCSE results tomorrow, GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!