The Triangle Must Not Be Broken: Three Cats on a Bed

You must understand: they never do this. They generally tolerate each other, but cannot stand to share the same surface. And yet, every once in a long while, they congregate to form the magic triangle–for what purpose, we know not.


  1. says

    I’m guessing they either intend to fuse together to make one massive cat (Voltron / Power Rangers style) or are attempting to summon Cthulhu by forming some kind of feline sigil, as he IS seafood of a sort and I reckon they could take him.

  2. says

    Oh, Jeff, you shouldn’t have skipped Geometry 101. Three points on a surface ALWAYS form a triangle (unless they are lined up). Therefore, this triangle is NOT, I repeat NOT, magic.

    But beware of the day you’ll found the three of them lined up (especially if they are looking in the same direction) (more especially if they stand up on the tip of the tail), THAT is really bad.

  3. GabrielM says

    I like how the one on the right has radioactive eyes. Personally I think they’re all just jointly peeing on your bed.

  4. Lane says

    When all the eyes of all three glow like the one on the right, that’s when you know you’re really in trouble.
    What you think that’s just a coincidence of the camera glare? I would suggest not sleeping in that bed once they get their eye-glows in sync.

  5. says

    I want to steal the big black and white one.

    Even better, I’m going to steal his/her resemblence for a micro-fiction I’m writing about a polydactyl-footed descendant of Hemingway’s famous grimalkin.

  6. says

    Oh Lord! I was mostly joking, Jeff. Though I am currently writing a piece about a polydactyl cat, set in Key West. Have you ever visited the Hemingway House? I’ve been there several times, and the cats are my favorite part. Ha!

    But, owning four cats myself, that shouldn’t be a surprise.

    Anyway, I’m NOT asking for Jackson to star in my short story. It’s about an ex-junkie living with AIDS, whose lifeforce is sustained by a breath-stealing cat, and well, it’s very gritty. I’m not so sure Ann would be all over that. Or Jackson either . . . though he does have a very menacing squint. LMAO!

  7. says

    Well, we’ll see what Ann says then. LOL! I’d be happy to write Jackson into the story, and give him credit (if the piece is accepted at the fanzine I will be submitting to). If it’s not accepted, I’ll post it on my blog (also with credit), should Ann approve of the manuscript. It was mostly just an exercise, anyway. There’s no rent money at stake, or anything, so, it might be pretty cool to have your cat in my story. If you’re a Hemingway fan, that is.

    PS: He’ll be starring as a female; it might be best to check that with him first. It’s Kabuki theatre, Mr. Jackson Vandermeer. Well, yes, there might be make-up invovled.

  8. Ann VanderMeer says

    Jackson is so cool that I know he wouldn’t mind being the star (female or otherwise) in your fiction. And everyone who sees him wants to steal him. (Even my mom, and she has a dog). He’s great until he tries to tap you with his pointy pointy claws (he can’t help it, he’s pointy).

  9. says

    I think that’s one of the points when cats seem most humanlike, when they tap you like that. It’s a reminder that they aren’t just befurred sleeping & eating machines, as if to say “Hey you. You’re not *that* evolved, you know. Certainly not enough that you can ignore me when I want your attention”.

  10. says

    Ann: Well, hopefully he won’t shred me if the story isn’t all that good. One of my cats, Shadow, has a problem retracting his claws — which is fairly ammusing when he tries to walk across the couch. He too, is pointy. The worst part is he’s very affectionate, and a compulsive kneader. His love hurts.