It’s Raining Kitties.


Sometimes life kicks the romance right out of you.  Too much information can do that to you.

Take weddings.

City girls love the idea of stepping out of the church and someone releases a bunch of white doves that flutter off into the sky.  I think it is supposed to represent her virginity has just flown the coop never to be seen again or something like that.  I would think, as her parents stand there and see the doves going all over the place and in different directions that they might be a bit concerned, but maybe some people can hold their symbolism in check.

I can’t.

My mind wanders where other people never seem to go.

But those brides have that idea and they think oh, how lovely, and gentle, and pastoral.  White doves … that match the white in my dress, and my shoes … and my grandmother’s hair … and the one bridesmaid who is going to become a nun and didn’t drink a drop at the hen’s party so her eyes aren’t even the teeniest bit blood shot.   Those brides think, “our love is off to the heavens,”  “our love lifts above this earth,”  “our love is carried to the angels.”

I think angels are only allowed 1 of 2 types of pets, fluffy white kitties, or white doves.  Fluffy kitties can’t fly which means they get left out of the whole wedding thing which seems really unfair of God.  He clearly did not think it through. making kitties that can’t fly . . .  Well, you could throw them up into the air and argue they are flying at the points between where they leave your hands, stop in mid air, and then crash back into the ground . . . but I think that is pretty sick.  If you did that at the wedding, most of the guests would miss the going up part because they would be screaming, and then they’d miss the coming down part because either their eyes would be closed or they would be running around trying to catch fluffy kitties dropping from the heavens.  Then there would always be someone who would make an inappropriate joke about the weather is not that bad …  it is only raining cats … just a light shower ….

So hence, doves  . . . that fly …to the angels …with their love.  And no kitties.

Who weeps for the kitties?

See, growing up on the farm and seeing the mess that any flying flock of birds leave as they take off, I would be suggesting, flying fluffy kittens might be the lesser of two evils.  Actually, releasing white mice would probably be the safest bet  and they could scurry away with the virginity, match grandma, and when they are eaten by fluffy white kittens that were not born in heaven and so were not with the angels, it could be a subtle sermon about life and love and staying on the straight and narrow and away from deceptively pretty and fluffy kitties that you think are heavenly but are not.

And another reason for kitties instead of doves, even when they can’t fly and they have a tragic end is that then their guts are made into harp strings and they can telepathically and musically let the angels know they won’t be home for dinner but that they are forever singing love songs on earth.  It is almost the same as the doves taking the love to heaven as they fly away, except think of it as that AND a party gift you get to keep – harp strings.  Awesome!! Oh and also reminds the angels to talk to God again about the kitties not being able to fly thing and could he please fix that.

Of course by the time they got the harp strings made, the couple could be divorced, or the whole virginity fear of the different directions could have happened and then it would be a waste of telepathic energy and when the angels are busy listening to what would be just cruel gossip at that point, some fluffy kitten on earth would probably drown because the angel missed their call.

Which is why I cry at most weddings.

If any of you were wondering.

Drowning kittens do that to me, every time.

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