Laws

H.J. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,

I recently read that Hugh Heffner announced via Twitter his preparations to marry for a third time. Aren't there laws against this?

H.J."

Which part? Getting married, being Hugh Heffner, or announcing things via Twitter?

Actually, in all three cases, the answer is "no."

Unfortunately, the only thing that could stop Hugh Heffner from getting married would be if he announced his plans to marry the houseboy, instead of the housebunny, and even that would only stop him in certain states. No, while Harry cannot have one husband, Liz is allowed eight. It's sad, but it is good protest sign fodder.

There is also no law against being Hugh Heffner. Unless you are not Hugh Heffner and you run around telling people that you are him. Especially if you take his credit cards and social security card and stuff and buy all sorts of things. Which he could totally afford, but still. That might land you in jail, but will most likely not get him in a whole load of trouble.

And Twitter...well, there should be laws against Twitter but there aren't. Nor are there laws preventing people from announcing things there. There is a sort of unwritten rule of douchebaggery that states "If the party of the first part is unaware of the happenings in the life of the party of the second part, the party of the second part retains all rights and privileges associated with being put out that the party of the first part could not be bothered to read the Twitter account of the party of the second part. The party of the second part will not be held liable for the party of the first part missing out on any super groovy social activities due to the general disinterest of the party of the first part in not reading Twitter because, dude, I only posted it up there, like, ten times between 2 and 3am after we hit the burrito stand. What do you mean you went home and went to sleep? It's not my fault you're a wus. If you want to know what's going on, you have to read my Twitter - I'm not going to tell you otherwise, because then what would be the point of posting it on Twitter?"

Or something like that.

So, as there are no laws to prevent it, I wish Heff and his new wife all sorts of joy as they embark on this lifelong journey together. And no, she is not a gold digger.

Thank you, H.J. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com

Cat Training

D.H. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,

One of my kittens is growing at an exponential rate and seems to be suffering from 'species confusion.' When she was little, my grey kitten began to perch on my shoulder to sleep as I sat in my bean bag chair -- not unlike a pirate's parrot. As she has grown and continues to grow, she continues to try to perch on my shoulder but since she no longer fits, more often than not she ends up sprawled across my chest or wrapped around my neck. My question is: how do I gently modify this behavior without rejecting her love or 'giving her a complex' about her weight?

D.H."

I have to admit, D.H., that I am at the same time very touched and very confused by what is going on in your household. I think it is adorable that your cat likes to perch on your shoulder, but I'm concerned for your posture if you spend a lot of time sitting in a bean bag chair in such a way that a cat can perch on your shoulder and then wrap itself around your neck. I'm guessing you are mostly reclined at this point? I know that seems comfy, but you're really not doing your lower back any favors. I fully expect to get a question in a few weeks about where to find a good chiropractor.

Which actually presents a rather simple solution to your problem - sit up straight. This will make it harder for your growing cat to get comfortable on your shoulder and she may instead opt for your lap (or your head, but that's usually only if they're playing "evil"). If there is no comfortable shoulder space, she will not sleep there.

I will say, too, that cats are more "trainable" than one might think, if you have the patience for it. See, she likes sleeping on you because you are warm. Your nice hot breath is probably at least part of the draw, and if you eat lots of tuna, all the more. But if you can show her that there are other comfy, warm places to sleep, and give her good reason to try them, she will eventually move away from your shoulder to the new spot.

For example, when I got my cat, he was NOT A LAP CAT. He liked attention (and still does), but would wriggle and squirm out of my lap within two seconds of me even attempting to put him there. Until one day, I picked him up, sat down, put him in my lap, and scritched his ears for as long as he would let me. The next time, I pet his ears, and scritched his face. The next time, ears, face, and the top of his head. I'm sure you can see where this is going. He eventually learned that when he sits in my lap, he gets attention. Oh, and it just happens to be warm and soft, too. Now, my lap is his favorite place in the house to sit. And all it took was a little patience and a lot of positive reinforcement.

So as you transition your cat from parrot to feline, just remember to work at her speed and to show constant, consistent affection when she behaves the way you want her to.

Good luck!

Thank you, D.H. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com

Potty Time Santa

J.R. asks, "Where does Santa pee on Christmas Eve, on his round the world circuit?"

That's actually a really good question, J.R., and there are a couple of theories on that. See, nobody has ever thought to ask him. Sure, you hear the random story about some kid seeing his mom make out with Santa, or some guy who happens to see Santa do his thing and then gets a personal "Merry Christmas" out of him, but in all of these encounters, does anyone ever think to ask Santa if he need to pop into the loo? No, they don't. Most of them don't even bother to say, "Thanks for the gifts, and for squishing your innards to get them to us," because if you know anything about the physics of Santa, you know he is traveling at approximately 650 miles per second, which subjects him to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. If that doesn't squish your innards, I don't know what will.

So there are a couple of theories on where Santa might take a pit stop if he needs one.

The first is that he is visiting millions of homes with large, bushy trees in them. Much better than using the trees outside, I must say, mostly because it can get cold outside which can make the mechanics of the deed tricky. This also explains why people are usually pretty quick to get rid of their trees once Christmas is over, and it is a pretty good, solid argument for real trees vs. fake trees.

The second, which is one I hold very dear, is that he uses whatever household restroom he needs to. Hell, we all leave cookies and milk out for him, so why not help himself to the toilet as well? In my house, this led to the tradition of the Christmas Morning Toilet Scrub, where we would gather around the toilet with our brand new scrubbing brushes and toilet bowl cleaner that smelled of gingerbread and get rid of any traces of the Santa who had also stopped at goodness knows how many other toilets around the world that were not nearly as sparkling clean and disease-free as ours. Good times. Good times.

And the third theory takes us back to the whole physics thing mentioned earlier. See, if a person is traveling at 650 miles per second, and is subjected to 17,500.06 times the force of gravity, one needs EXTRAORDINARY amounts of energy to withstand that. It's like when they're teaching pilots to withstand Mach 3 speeds and they tell them to clench down as tight as they can. Times 5,833. So Santa is burning up a LOT of calories on his journey around the world (not alot 'cuz that's something totally different), and all he gets to eat along the way is cookies and milk. In short, Santa gets dangerously dehydrated on his trip around the world and as such, he doesn't need to pee. Why do you think he does this only once a year? You'd think a guy as benevolent as Santa would be making appearances at charity functions and whatnot throughout the year to keep on giving. And why do you think he's always pictured as fat? He needs to build up some padding because he's going to burn through all of it on his journey around the world. No, Santa doesn't need to pee on his journey around the world because he is subjecting himself to the most brutal test of physical endurance ever imagined by human or superhuman being. Even worse than bicycle bog snorkeling. And then he has to take the following year to rest, recover, and prepare to do it all over again.

So may I recommend that this year, you leave out, say, a pot roast for Santa instead of the usual milk and cookies? Dude could use some protein.

Thank you, J.R. for your question. Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com

Turkey

L.C. asks, "What’s the big deal with turkey? Everyone gets all excited about it for Thanksgiving and then again at Christmas. I mean, it’s just glorified chicken. Now ham I can see – I mean, it’s ham."

Ah, turkey. I'll assume we're talking about the bird and not the country (due to the references to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and chicken), though I've heard that the country is actually quite lovely. Maybe next year we should all go there at this time of year and take a little tour or something. It will most likely be warmer than it is in Chicago (with the exception of yesterday), and it could be used as an excuse to get out of all of that silly holiday gift buying stuff you hear so much about on the news. Anyway. Just a thought.

But back to the bird. The poor, poor turkey. Honestly, I think it has to do with sound. And I think it is important here that you mention ham as well, because it is a perfect comparison. My guess is that when you think of ham, you think of something like this, yes? You're probably not thinking of something like this, yet that is where ham comes from. Ham comes from pigs, and as we all know, the pigs who can talk would prefer to not be your holiday dinner, thank you very much. They tell us that. Right there in the films.

Turkeys don't. Unless it's some horror flick or something. Turkeys, in general, say, "Gobble, gobble, gobble." It's what we're all taught in school. Timmy from South Park even named his pet turkey Gobbles, thus reinforcing that turkeys should be gobbled. We don't feel bad about eating something that is telling us to eat it. It's like a free pass. And particularly around the holidays, people like things that are free. Guilt-free is even better (just look at the magazine racks and you'll see millions of "guilt-free" recipes and such).

So why do we eat turkeys at Thanksgiving and at Christmas? Because they told us to, so we don't have to feel bad about it. Unlike those "right-to-life" pigs. Stupid pigs...

Thank you, L.C. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com