Bushy Cat and the Mongrels

Rob's senior pic

One of the main reasons I believe Rob the Husband loves our cats (other than the last item on his thankful list here) is that they take his humor without eye rolling and groans. In fact, they purr right through it, oblivious to the bad puns, only aware of the luxurious head scratches they're receiving.

I'm not joking. The humor is painful.

*** This morning***

Rob, murmuring: Did you start a band called "Bushy Cat and the Mongrels"?

Tuco Salamanca: [purrrrr, purrrrr, knead, knead]

Rob: Did you love to play "Stray Cats" together?

Tuco Salamanca: [purrrrr, purrrrr, knead, knead]

Rob: Do you have too much fur for one cat to handle?

Tuco Salamanca: [purrrrr, purrrrr, knead, knead]

Rob: Is your favorite movie "The Furminator"?

Me, from the next room, finally breaking down in laughter: STOP!

***

If I could just control my laughter, Rob might be discouraged and the world might be spared. Alas, I have no control over laughing at lame jokes, which sometimes makes me wonder if he married me just so I can be his laughing sidekick.

I do put my foot down when he encourages me to smell the cat's back. Seriously. Because cats' backs apparently smell good?...

And then I wonder if I married Rob just so he can be my constant source of entertainment. Probably.