Proof of De-Volution!

So,
we've established my wife's cat (hereafter referred to as mine, because I end up suffering most of the indignities the beast heaps upon us in the house...but NEVER mistake who brought the vermin...I mean cat...into MY house!)...anyway, my cat is dumb...dumb with a capital DUH...

I cannot truly express how an animal with a little bit more than a hindbrain could be this dumb. If we unplugged her life support (ie:put her outside), she would expire. The flying, running, climbing or just plain SITTING noms out in the world would simply outsmart her.
Or she would dehydrate because there wasn't a leaky bathtub or toilet...I mean water dish...to be had.
Or, frankly, with no litter box she may simply explode randomly one day (if she managed to find a food source slower and dumber than she...). The only positive thing to say about the little twit, she won't use anything BUT a litterbox.

So anyway, per the norm I digress.
The moron.
We're sitting at the table, minding our own business, I trying to ignore the cat, the wife reading, when I see sudden movement out of the corner of my eye.
Sudden is abnormal in this house, unless it involves food. Neither the wife nor I have supplied new food to the bowl gawd, so I wonder...and look.

Every once in a while a flying insect gets in. The going out, the open windows to look at the birds, what have you. At these times, the normal response for the cat is to ignore said insect until it finds it's way into our bedroom sometime between 11:30pm and 4 am (anything earlier or later would not be disturbing enough to circadian rythms).
At this juncture, the cat either decides some part (well, multiple parts) of my bed, my body and my pillow are launching points for airborne assaults on the winged invaders (you shoulda seen her for Lightning Bug season...that's another little story) OR she decides that walls (usually with her face) are good objects to arrest her forward momentum with when dealing with particularly fast or maneuverable foes (anything that is self motile usually qualifies compared to her). This results in very loud and usually unexplainable thumps, followed by upset (and loud) mewling.

So, after explaining how this is her normal modus-operandi, you should be as surprised as I to see my lazy little git of an animal shooting straight up into the air like an angry Jack Russel Terrier on drugs. I'm talking air time Michael Jordan would have been proud of.
These antics are significant enough to get my attention, so I look up from my painting to observe...and I get a glimpse of what she's chasing. A small wasp. Not those evil beasts of paper, or ground hornets or any such thing, but one of the small black ones that hunt spiders and generally don't make a nuisance of themselves...and sting a little more than a sweat bee.
Well, somewhere along the line it angered my cat. I would like to say that she saw it as a threat to us (okay, my wife..not me) and was trying to save us...but there isn't a noble bone in her lithe little body.

Futilely, I actually said (after her 4th failed leap to catch it), "Cat, this may be one of the dumbest things you've ever done...you might wanna stop". She looked at me, detecting the note of warning in my voice, realized I was not getting up to pursue her for some transgression she does not understand (such as mauling 300$ worth of miniatures, minor little things like this), and continued to bounce, leap and cavort after this THING that had invaded HER airspace!
I repeated my warning, to no avail. I was (as per the norm for the women in my life) ignored. I poked my wife, telling her the cat was going to regret this...she mumbled incoherently and continued reading (something like 'yes dear'...isn't that my line?).

Having done my duty, I relaxed to watch the show.
Watching this animal attempt to catch most things is akin to watching a retarded ant-eater try to invade and consume a fire ant nest. It ain't pretty, but it's sure entertaining!
She spent fully 5 minutes proving that millions of years of evolution CAN be undone with about 3000 years of human meddling. She bounced off counters, the fridge, the chair, the wall and me. She ran, she slid (linoleum) she bounced and she flipped. All this noise finally gets my wife out of her book and she looks up...she doesn't ask what's going on, she just watches for the fun...not realizing that for me, the fun is just beginning!

Leap,
knock down,
pounce,
nose
"MROWRP!"
(up and back, like she had been loaded onto a mini trampouline...I don't think I saw the legs move, she just bounced...)
she then had the gall to GLARE at me, like I'd done this...I look up and the wife looks at me, "what the hell was she chasing?"
"A wasp?!"
"why did you let thi..."
"MROWRP!" (while we were having our little discourse, retardicus decided she wanted to go another round and pounced..I looked up in time to see another levitation..a good 4 footer)...
"shhhhh, it's a damned little one, she's learning a lesson that won't hurt her"...(much)

She's not injured it enough to not fly, but she's stunned it. She stares, while licking the paw (I assume what got nailed). She stares, and the tail twitches with anger. It has engaged her honor now, and must be disposed of. It orients itself and revvs the engine for take-off.
Now begins the next 5 minutes of her lesson.
She does not spend it proving her grace, or improving her skills as a hunter....she spends it proving that she is dumb.
5 minutes of...scamper***leap***bat***nom-MROWRP!-levitate***glare....(lather, rinse, repeat).
At one point she disables it's flight apparatus, but she did not realize that did not equate into disabling it's 'fight' apparatus...producing about 10 seconds of 'nom-MROWRP-pause-nom-MROWRP-glare-glare-nom-MROWRP'.
At this point, she is starting to look up at us...with an imploring "can you make the sharps go away".
I take pity (and a cue from my side in the form of a wifely jab) and murder the marauding insect with a book. I lift the book up off the floor to scoop the body, and POUNCE! She assaults the corpse, quite likely to take credit for someone elses kill...and learns her final lesson...MROWRP! (a stinger ain't dead just cause da bug's squisheded!). Somehow or another, this got me a final "bite me" look from the cat, as though once again I was responsible, and a swish of the tail as she left me to go to her 'mommy' for treats and petting...she had, of course, rid the house of the 'flying-sharp' and wanted her due reward.

I think the honest matter was the cat was trying to kill me...I have never surpressed that much laughter for my own health (I think Rox woulda hurt me if I'd giggled at one more MROWRP...) in my life. She's trying to give me a stroke!