Trigger the imaginary cat

As I mentioned earlier, I have a co-worker with an imaginary cat. I don't think this counts as an RPLM, because his randomness is not tied to our work as librarians. At least, not directly. Although I won't deny that there is a higher-than-average correlation between librarians and crazy cat people. My co-worker, whom I will refer to as "George" to half-heartedly protect his anonymity, is evidence that not only are there crazy cat ladies, and crazy cat men, there are also crazy imaginary cat men. George is a very mild-mannered guy, but he has a friend who drives him crazy. George's friend is a retired crazy cat man. I mean, he's retired from working. The cat thing is in full swing. George can't talk to him on the phone w/o Crazy Cat Friend referring to, talking to, or talking about the cats, and often trying to convince the cats to "say hi" to George.

George was sick of their conversations being dominated by creatures with no capacity for language, so in an attempt to level the playing field, he invented his own cat. Now when his friend talks to and about his cats while on the phone, George talks to and about "Trigger." He asked me if I knew where he could find a recording of a cat meowing so he could have a more convincing imaginary phone cat. I suggested that he plunk randomly on his piano and say it was Trigger. George was excited about this idea. A little too excited for a mild-mannered, sane, reality-based person, if you ask me. Not that I don't think it's hilarious, but I never would've guessed George had it in him. But his Crazy Cat Friend brings out the crazy in him, too. If I ever get that way about my dog, I hope one of you out there cares enough to do a save-the-single-person-with-pet-from-herself intervention. Deal?

Now that I've waxed on about the dangers of pet obsession, here are some gratuitous shots of Brynn breaking Rule #1: Do Not Taunt Happy Fun Ball.