This month a cat was born with two faces and I have to marvel over this wonderful mutation. If you’ve seen the photos plastered all over the internet, then you know that “Gemini” is a tabby that has two sets of eyes, noses, and mouths. The faces share a throat, however, which decreases the likelihood of two sets of hairballs on the carpet every morning, but hey, this freak of nature proves that anything is possible. After all, Gemini is able to lick itself twice as much, in an effort to get twice as clean, and therefore would swallow twice as much hair to spit up on twice as many carpets.
Cats are two-faced by nature, but this is still a pretty wild invention. I sort of wish it was a Siamese, and not a tabby, however, just for irony’s sake.
Gemini isn’t a genetic experiment, per se, but the offspring of what the breeder calls a “miniature cat” and a full-sized feline. Male cats have spiny genital organs — barbs that actually hook inside the female to hold on to the squealing kitty long enough to conceive. I don’t know which mate was the “minature” cat, but I’m sure the consummation was exceedingly painful. Geminis.
Hey, if I had a two-faced feline, I wouldn’t call it “Gemini.” What is this, the 70’s? I’d probably go for something much more schizoid. Like “Tragicomedy.” And I’d pet only one side of the creature, just to make that side smile and purr while the “tragedy” side just sadly scowled.
Oh, the possibilities. And I don’t just mean “His and Her” water bowls. Imagine the uncanny set of double eyes, glowing green at you in the dark. Imagine the frightening shock of its stereo hiss. Imagine the unspeakable horror that rodents would experience, torsos torn asunder in the multiple mandibles of this double-mouthed mouser.
And when the dopplekitty did something bad, like claw my couch to hell (due, perhaps, to an preternatural sense of depth perception), I’d have to send Cerberus, my three-headed demon dog, out to chase it. Mayhem would ensue, but I’m sure Tragedy would win the battle.
But all of this is rather moot. I think a schizocat wouldn’t survive very long after birth. And not just because its biology is an affront to all that is natural. No, I think the thing would surely go insane and claw itself to death. Cats can’t stand their own reflection in a mirror, let alone one glued to their own cheek. The itch of hidden whiskers, tickling somewhere secret inside, alone would be madness. And I seriously doubt that one face would deign to be cleaned by the other side’s spit-laden paw. No, Tragedy and Comedy would want to go their separate ways, but each would learn the hard way that nine lives simply aren’t divisible by two.
Postscript: Shortly after writing this article, poor Gemini died of natural causes, with less than a month of life. Only one funeral was arranged. Double frownie: ::–((
You can still see her and read all about this freakcident here: