Animal Instinct

I've always mentally personified cats as dignified creatures with very human propriety out the wazoo. However, when Special K came zipping into the kitchen tonight with her mottled ginger-and-black long hair sticking out in all directions, her pupils dilated to the size of quarters, and a couple of particularly hairy spider legs poking out of her little pink mouth, all I could think was "whoa. Yuck, you animal." She then proceeded to dramatically spit the rest of the atrocious body out at my feet, her psychotic feline expression plainly stating "here, I'll share. There's plenty." In the morning, she'll look up at me, irritated, groggy, ridiculous because one side of her diamond-shaped face will be pressed flat from her pillow, and I'll be forced to remember that helpless little insect being eaten alive... so I'll give her extra kibble and let her chew on a houseplant or two, because I hate spiders. Good Kitty.