The Cat's Pajamas

Snakes shed their skins. Birds molt their feathers. Mammals shed hair. But those of you human readers who share your lives with cats, have you ever had that slightly odd feeling when seeing your cat again after an hour, a workday, or a brief vacation, that he or she has…well…changed? If your cat were human, you’d ask, “new haircut?” But that’s not quite it.

I’m going to tell you the truth here, now…well, part of it. It’s the catsuits. Yep, we have catsuits. They are complicated affairs carefully custom-made by sources I will not reveal…ever…not even with a lifetime supply of catnip. We change them as needed.

Think about it. Why are we so distressed when you go to take us to the vet? (Needles, through the catsuit!) Or when you take us with you on vacation? (How long will we be away? Will I need a fresh catsuit? Do I have one ordered?) Why do we stress out about being immersed in water? (Shrinkage happens.) It is all about catsuit care and availability. Every cat’s biggest nightmare is being caught without a catsuit. I know, I know, you think this is all the product of one of my people’s fertile imaginations, but I’m telling you the truth.

My catsuits are fairly easy by cat standards. My pal Alex, however, is a stripey cat, and that is one tough catsuit to make: the complexity of stripeys blending into caramel and stone. She keeps an extra on hand at all times – one reason she watches her weight and figure so carefully. Me, I’m more of a daredevil. Occasionally, I stock up on one or two but, I’m young, I love to eat, and right now I don’t have a lot of physically unique “wear” characteristics…like the little worn areas cats get on the back of our rear legs on the joint above our “foot,” or at least the part of the foot that touches the ground. If you keep a spare catsuit too long and put it on one day, you can really give the discerning human a jolt. They get used to it, but it can be hard.

We maintained for years that humans got the idea for children’s pajamas, you know, the ones with “footies,” from cats. We thought you knew. But then the phrase “the cat’s pajamas” jumped into the human lexicon in the 1920s, meaning something or someone remarkable and stylish. Many cats still figured you humans knew because we are remarkable and stylish, but slowly, irrevocably, we learned the truth: except for B. Kliban, humans don’t know about catsuits.

Sometimes I wonder if bees have these complications with their knees?