Monday, March 3, 2008

Dear Hexapus: It's Me, Not You

I just don't find this octopus very strange, and I think I know why: while it only has six legs rather than eight, and is therefore being branded a hexapus in all the cruel British tabloids, I don't interact with regular eight-legged octopuses enough to go stark-raving bonkers at the sight of only six legs.

The eight-legged creature I interact with most is the spider, and in that case, it's not so unusual to see one that has been reduced to hobbling along on six legs. This is especially true since so many of the spiders I encounter are in their last desperate throes trying to escape from my cat, who is gleefully tossing them around and dismembering them as a prelude to eating them. Nature red in tooth, claw, and legs seven and eight.

So this amazing freak of an octopus will just have to excuse me if all I see is a regular old octopus that has somehow crossed paths with my cat. My cat would tear the legs off of anything. He'd tear my legs off just to amuse himself if I didn't stop him. Tell me something I don't know.

My world-weariness about this says one thing very clearly: I need to be spending more time under the sea looking at eight-legged octopuses. Then and only then will the hexapus deliver the shock it deserves to send.

2 comments:

Lirone said...

I suspect you might feel less world weary if you'd seen your cat dressed up like this to go octopus hunting...

Dale said...

Lirone,

Cats in scuba.

Cats in scuba?

Of course! Cats in scuba!

Why isn't this more common?