…That the cats are creepily accurate feline reflections of Boyfriend and I.
The female is:
Thinner
Lighter
Neater
High-strung
Overly Sensitive
and Prone to Poorly Timed Fits of Affection
The male is:
Bigger
Darker
Sloppier
Laid-back
Largely Unflappable
and Prone to Napping in Unlikely Places
I sense a cosmic conspiracy of Berúthiel-esque proportions. One of these days, Boyfriend and I will simply be replaced by the carefully disguised doppelgängers, and no one will be the wiser. Not even you. The white cat, Mingo, will continue writing a column on all things Eastern European for GlobalComment, occasionally interrupting herself to inteview people far more interesting than she is, or else to put up rants on this blog. The brown cat, Fanty, will prowl the exciting world of venture capitalism and watch cooking shows in his spare time.
Boyfriend and I will, in the meantime, be trapped in some spatial anomaly. I can only hope that the spatial anomaly in question comes equipped with a Playstation 3 and a shelf of decent science fiction. And sofas. And maybe a Snow Cone machine. A Snow Cone machine isn’t too much to ask for being trapped in a pseudo-scientific disruption of the space-time continuum.

