Day 37: My Lifeā€”for the Birds
Wednesday, August 12, 2009 at 1:18PM
[American Fever]

Did you know birds used to hunt people? Scientists at Ohio State have assembled compelling evidence that scratches and holes in the skull of an immortal little girl were caused by local raptors the size of our bald eagles. (Is that what happens to ‘reformers’ in D.C.?)

The ape-like Taung child was a very significant 3½-year-old. Her discovery in a South African cave back in 1924 was the first indication that Homo sapiens had evolved in Africa. The impressions on her skull were thought to have been made by ferocious cats. Turns out they match marks on comparably sized monkeys devoured by birds of prey.

A CHILD WITH MUCH TO TEACH US ABOUT BIRDS (Locutus Borg)It’s comforting to see feline innocence affirmed.

Some cats can’t get off the hook so easily. Mine got loose in the kitchen today, tore open a big bag of granola. Sneeky doesn’t even like cereal. When I told him that wasn’t very nice, he looked at me and shrugged: “Nice rhymes with mice, dude.”

Maybe he missed me, was tired of being cooped up with my cranky girlfriend. He’d gotten accustomed to a kind of rotating exposure to whichever of us was sleeping in his room. Since I’m no longer welcome, Sneeky busted out to surprise me with a breakfast avalanche of human kibbles.

My own happy family.

Nina wouldn’t let me enter the bedroom to return him. She wants him to stay out here from now on. This exposes Sneeky to my decontamination zone—and robs him of the window he loves.

The doctor we need here may be an old Austrian. Paging Sigmund!

I should make clear that Nina has many of the apparent symptoms of pregnancy with one big difference. She has indeed gained weight and has turned chunky, cranky, dizzy, sleepy, and barfy. (Which dwarves did I forget?) Her stomach is horribly loose, though.

The Web says she either has some virus or is indeed pregnant. I tried to feed her rice and applesauce and toast (yes, we have no bananas), but she snarled like a prehistoric feline. She won’t even take Imodium.

You’d think I made her sick. She seems to.

I wish she would talk to me. I am striving mightily not to express myself. Sneeky knows I’m losing my mind. I hope he doesn’t lose respect for me.

Article originally appeared on American Fever: A Tale of Romance & Pestilence (http://www.americanfeverbook.com/).
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