My wife Katie plugged in Meowalicious’ cat water fountain. Yes, we have another cat named Theo. But, if we’re being honest, Meowalicious is the reason Katie put a cat water fountain in our Amazon cart. So I will refer to the extravagent contraption as Meowalicious’ cat water fountain.
The cat water fountain, despite being plugged in, did not spout water. After a few short months of growing accustomed to her new water source, Meowalicious stared blankly at her broken cat fountain.
Katie put another, more expensive cat water fountain in our Amazon cart. I wondered what in my life had brought me to this moment as we clicked “checkout.”
Supply chains aren’t what they used to be and no amount of tariffs will bring them back. So the order was delayed. Theo still remembers how to drink out of a bowl. Poor Meowalicious, I’m afraid, may succumb to dehydration.
Maybe we’ll buy her a stillsuit.
***
All references to Dune aside, I can’t help but think that maybe the cat water fountain is just another reminder of consumerism gone wild. Late capitalism at work. We scrounge and save to get by each month as our cat bathes in her decadent fountain.
And yes we have a catio (a patio for cats) in our shed. We had to store it for winter now that Iowa City is coated in ice. And yes we have hundreds of cat toys that Meowalicious drags out of her kitty playpen in the living room. And yes we have a cat tunnel that she runs back and forth through in the basement. And yes Theo watches his younger sister with contempt as she rolls in piles of catnip. And yes our bank account shudders at the thought of another luxurious purchase for a chunky, gray tabby cat.
I grow more and more convinced that Katie loves Meowalicious more than me. I stumble into the room and find them cuddling on the couch. Meowalicious jumps into my lap, looks into my eyes, and immediately flees my presence in search of her mother. It might be that Katie is training Meowalicious to resist the patriarchy. I’m the patriarchy. I can’t say for sure if any of my suspicions are true. But they might be true. And in this age of social media, if something might be true, it can become a party platform that propels you to the highest offices in the land.
Oh, and before you tell me to start seeing a therapist, know that I already am.
***
“What are you doing?” I ask Katie before bed. I hear the water running in the bathroom.
“Nothing,” she says in a tone of voice that makes it clear she is doing something.
I open the door and find Meowalicious sitting on the counter, drinking from the faucet.
“What am I looking at?” I ask.
“She’s thirsty,” Katie says.
“I see I’m not needed here.”
I close the door, leave Katie and Meowalicious alone, and retreat to my bed, falling asleep alone. Theo is wheezing underneath the bed. His body isn’t what it used to be. Neither is mine. Theo and I fall asleep together, a remnant of the patriarchy which time has relegated to history.
Samuel Jaye Tanner 