Blog Dis
He loved smelling her bum...
2025-12-11
Writers make some of the best observers. It's our job to observe, assess, interpret and recall for later use when penning that next great ditty of assimilated words. When I had two little fur-balls living with me full-time, who've long crossed over to the rainbow bridge, I noticed two distinct personality types. My kitties might just have well served as the models for comparison between the human male and female. They were no different from one another, because they were kitties, and yet they were so common in their female and male approach to living.
Brando, the male, would love to smell his sister's bum. Every chance he got, he'd stick his nose in her rear and take a good whiff. In the fourteen years of living with me, and coping with each other, they had slept away most of their lives, but in their waking moments often they would collide with one another. My take, as their hooman, and sometime owner, was that Brando was compelled to smell her bum in order to ensure that her scent hadn't changed, or that she was the same kitty he faced every day. Either that, or Brando needed to ensure that she was still a female kitty, and hadn't morphed into a male kitty overnight.
Of course I was obviously working on an assumption because who really knows what thoughts run through a kitty's mind, if any at all.
Nutmeg, the female, had zero interest in smelling her brother's bum, not once, not even a slight sniff that might not have been caught by me. She had numerous opportunities to do so, any time his backend was facing her face, but she wouldn't lean over to take a sniff if her fur was blazing on fire. I found this most amusing. Behaving like some quasi-human male, Brando didn't seem able to help himself with her scent. And Nutmeg, acting very much like a human female had better things to do with her time, rather than smell her brother's bum. She'd much rather sleep or eat or avoid him altogether. Strange these kitty creatures, we tell ourselves. But cats and dogs and birds and horses are not so different from their human counterparts. I've observed that male and female behaviour appears to transcend the barrier of species differentiation and that many characteristics are inherent and abundantly obvious in the same sex.
Many women are of the opinion that almost all human males are pathological liars when it comes to dealing with women. Don't ask me why. Perhaps men develop coping and survival skills that are designed to ensure they get what they want. Whereas, men can be of the opinion that many women are pathological nitpickers, never satisfied with his behaviour or results and therefore prone to pointing out what he could or should have done (or what he had failed to do). Some of you reading this will be offended. Please don't be. These are general observational statements and are not meant to be the bona fide truth, or to be viewed as criticisms.
You have your own version of the truth, the same like my kitties had their version of what living a true life means, if you consider that their brains were only the size of a pea. As a writer, my role is to throw myself into the mix and hope for the best. And if I am graced with inspiration from the people and animals around me, then allow me to fill my boots. It will add punch into my writing.
Writers, myself included, cannot anticipate where our thoughts will take us, such as this post. I was scrolling through some old photos on my home computer, and I came across a folder of pictures of my fur-babies (RIP). Nostalgia is very popular at this time of year, and I'm no exception. Simply put, I need to release my thoughts and words into the great Universe and hope they'll stick in the mind of some unknown reader out there, in whose truth my words may resonate.
I can only assure you 100% that I have no desire to smell the bum of anyone. I think there is an actual term for this predilection and it's called 'huffing.' I have, however, admittedly fondled many a man's rear end, much to their pleasure and mine. And that's all I have to say on this subject.
Oh, to live the life of a kitty. Cats need not worry about bills, paying taxes, getting groceries, or cleaning up after themselves. They don't suffer from insomnia, like us humans, and they pretend to not hear us, when it's convenient for them. Apparently, cats recognize up to 500 words, yet will act as though not one single word of our human language registers with them. Who then is the smarter of the species? Cats had domesticated themselves, and we've been trained to take good care of them ever since then.
[Nutmeg left; Brando right]
Brando, the male, would love to smell his sister's bum. Every chance he got, he'd stick his nose in her rear and take a good whiff. In the fourteen years of living with me, and coping with each other, they had slept away most of their lives, but in their waking moments often they would collide with one another. My take, as their hooman, and sometime owner, was that Brando was compelled to smell her bum in order to ensure that her scent hadn't changed, or that she was the same kitty he faced every day. Either that, or Brando needed to ensure that she was still a female kitty, and hadn't morphed into a male kitty overnight.
Of course I was obviously working on an assumption because who really knows what thoughts run through a kitty's mind, if any at all.
Nutmeg, the female, had zero interest in smelling her brother's bum, not once, not even a slight sniff that might not have been caught by me. She had numerous opportunities to do so, any time his backend was facing her face, but she wouldn't lean over to take a sniff if her fur was blazing on fire. I found this most amusing. Behaving like some quasi-human male, Brando didn't seem able to help himself with her scent. And Nutmeg, acting very much like a human female had better things to do with her time, rather than smell her brother's bum. She'd much rather sleep or eat or avoid him altogether. Strange these kitty creatures, we tell ourselves. But cats and dogs and birds and horses are not so different from their human counterparts. I've observed that male and female behaviour appears to transcend the barrier of species differentiation and that many characteristics are inherent and abundantly obvious in the same sex.
Many women are of the opinion that almost all human males are pathological liars when it comes to dealing with women. Don't ask me why. Perhaps men develop coping and survival skills that are designed to ensure they get what they want. Whereas, men can be of the opinion that many women are pathological nitpickers, never satisfied with his behaviour or results and therefore prone to pointing out what he could or should have done (or what he had failed to do). Some of you reading this will be offended. Please don't be. These are general observational statements and are not meant to be the bona fide truth, or to be viewed as criticisms.
You have your own version of the truth, the same like my kitties had their version of what living a true life means, if you consider that their brains were only the size of a pea. As a writer, my role is to throw myself into the mix and hope for the best. And if I am graced with inspiration from the people and animals around me, then allow me to fill my boots. It will add punch into my writing.
Writers, myself included, cannot anticipate where our thoughts will take us, such as this post. I was scrolling through some old photos on my home computer, and I came across a folder of pictures of my fur-babies (RIP). Nostalgia is very popular at this time of year, and I'm no exception. Simply put, I need to release my thoughts and words into the great Universe and hope they'll stick in the mind of some unknown reader out there, in whose truth my words may resonate.
I can only assure you 100% that I have no desire to smell the bum of anyone. I think there is an actual term for this predilection and it's called 'huffing.' I have, however, admittedly fondled many a man's rear end, much to their pleasure and mine. And that's all I have to say on this subject.
Oh, to live the life of a kitty. Cats need not worry about bills, paying taxes, getting groceries, or cleaning up after themselves. They don't suffer from insomnia, like us humans, and they pretend to not hear us, when it's convenient for them. Apparently, cats recognize up to 500 words, yet will act as though not one single word of our human language registers with them. Who then is the smarter of the species? Cats had domesticated themselves, and we've been trained to take good care of them ever since then.
[Nutmeg left; Brando right]
