Last August we adopted two kittens, both female. Or at least, that’s what the people at the animal shelter claimed. And as far as Skitty goes, we believe them. But Molly–named after Molly Ivins because of her spirited nature (she’s pictured looking down at me from a six foot high cabinet)–is so determined and daring that she seems like the male cats we’ve had over the last 35 years. We’ve taken to calling her a shemale. My husband, Connie, has gone a step further. He insists that they got it wrong at the pound and that Molly is actually a male. And once he gets an idea in his head ….
Never mind that she’s been spayed and that the vet would probably have noticed if she hadn’t possessed a uterus. Connie waves that objection away.
“Of course, he’s been neutered. And some female cat was spayed at the same time, and they mixed up the paperwork.”
“They’d have both had to be long haired gray cats. What are the chances?” I respond.
Ignoring that, he insists that we need to take her to the vet to be sexed. “Fine,” I agree, “as long as I get to take my camcorder so that I can record the amusement on the vet’s face when he tells you you’re wrong.”
“No, no,” he says. “I’m holding the camcorder. I want to see your jaw drop when you find out that Molly is really Molly-Jake.” (He refers to a supposedly female stray his family took in when he was a kid. When Susie started mating with the local females and producing offspring, the family had to rename her Susie-Jake.)
Thursday morning, when we had that conversation one more time, I had just finished kvetching all the way through Maureen Dowd’s column about the insanity of Lt. Col. Terry Lakin, the birther who just got court martialed for refusing to obey orders from the usurper in chief. I kept moaning about how batshit crazy a large minority of this country is.
So when Connie insisted that he be the one holding the camcorder in the vet’s office, I nailed him: “You’re just like a birther. You live in fantasy land.”
He clutched both hands to his heart and allowed as how that was a low blow. I had to agree. At least when the vet informs him that Molly is a female, he’ll quit pretending otherwise.
Which is more than a birther does when presented with proof.