Trumpet + Rock Band = Sad Kitty

Trumpet is just not a fan of our favorite new video game. When we rock out, he seems to think we’re in distress and need his help. This is especially true when there’s singing involved, and even more so when one of us is singing while playing guitar or bass. In fact, just this evening he jumped on the table in front of Grant (while G was belting out Creep by Radiohead) and started licking Grant’s fingers during his Expert fretwork. Thanks, kitty!

In fact, the very first week we got our microphone stand, Trumpet expressed his displeasure at Grant singing while playing even more strongly, as evidenced by the following incredibly shitty cell phone pic, taken hastily before he descended:

Disturbed kitty soothes the crazy humans.

Sometimes when I’m crooning particularly enthusiastically (and not so melodiously), I’ll feel him hugging my leg and pawing at my knee (no claws), sort of pseudo-mounting it in distress (and not horniness, trust me. His feline amorous advances come in another form, which caused me to sleep with a spray bottle of water in bed with me the whole time Grant was in Japan, so I could deter him from humping my leg without fully having to wake up.)

He only seems to really freak out like this during the long, drawn-out, higher-pitched stretches, like that whole “Sheeeeeeeeeeeeee’s ruuuuuuuuuunin oooooooout the dooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooor…” bit, and the entire 30 Seconds to Mars song. And thankfully, Grant and I are the only people he’s comfortable mounting/licking/etc. When guests come over to rock out, he just contents himself to sit there and yowl along. I wish I could upload audio for that, I really do.

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