I Could Hump That
By: Toni Crowe
Tags: Humor, Cats, This Happened To Me, Short Story, Love

I Could Hump That

The cat was making sweet, sweet love to my wigs

Photo by Rodrigo dos Reis on Unsplash

Perhaps one reason we are fascinated by cats is because such a small animal can contain so much independence, dignity, and freedom of spirit. Unlike the dog, the cat’s personality is never bet on a human’s. He demands acceptance on his own terms.” — Lloyd Alexander

We love the small furry creatures that add joy to my home but when my husband’s Maine Coon began stealing my wigs for sexual interludes, it was almost too much. Who ever heard of a perverted cat?

The Missing Hair

I was getting dressed to log in to a virtual meeting. I wanted to impress, so I decided to wear my long wig. I lay the wig on the bed alongside the rest of my clothing. After I showered, I did not see my wig. Since I was in a hurry, I assumed I had absentmindedly put it somewhere. Instead of wearing the wig, I curled my hair and moved on. I mentioned my forgetfulness to my husband that night but thought no more of it.

A Repeat Performance

About a month later, we were headed out to run errands. I was going to wear my clip in pink hair extensions. When I went to put the extensions in, they were gone. I knew I had not moved them.

The next day, I asked my husband to help me find my wayward hair. He found it. His cat, Ranger, a 21-pound Maine Coon, had stolen my hair. The wig and hairpiece were under the bed against the headboard in the guest bedroom. Ranger had his way with my extensions and turned them into a wad of humped hair. Yes, humped. The cat was making love to my fake hair.

Ranger did not have just the most recent wig and extensions. Also, under the bed were two additional wigs stolen out of my closet. When I checked the wig boxes, the claw marks were clearly visible.

The wigs were lumped together with the cat sprawled on top of them, kneading and rubbing his stuff on them. I was furious. My spouse found this endlessly amusing; calling me over and asking if I wanted the wigs back. Duh, no. My husband laughed so long and hard that I eventually started laughing too — a good thing since I wanted to castrate the already neutered cat.

His cat, Ranger, a 21-pound Maine Coon, had stolen my hair. The wigs were under the bed against the headboard in the guset bedroom. Ranger had been having his way with my extensions and turned them into a wad of humped hair. Yes, humped. The cat was making love to my hair.

A Win-Win

Ranger did not want to give up my hair. We captured the cat and locked him in his carrier. When I examined the wigs, they were a sticky matted mess, all rolled and jumbled together in a ball that resembled a ratty cat. We took the wig ball, bagged it, and tossed it in the trash. It was over, or so we thought.

Late that night, I heard a sound in my closet. The damn cat was in my closet hunting for another wig. When I put him out, he yowled at the top of his lungs. He would not stop. Eventually, the cat won; we needed to go back to sleep. We retrieved the wig ball out of the garbage, returning his love to him. The yowling stopped. He picked up his hair and walked away.

This incident worked well for both of us. I parlayed the wig stealing into a new closet system with locking drawers while the creature kept his yucky equivalent of a cat blow-up doll.

I never got those wigs back, and at least two other wigs were kidnapped. The score was Ranger - 4, Toni - 0.