My cat is an asshole
Yes, you read that right. My adorable, sweet, old-lady cat is a fucking asshole. Ever since the day we adopted her, my home has never known peace. She’s a smart asshole too. Early on, she discovered the miracle contraption known as a “window”. What did she do with this knowledge? Sit in front of it in order to torment the neighborhood dogs. Do you know how awkward it is to say to your neighbor “oh, sorry your dogs are barking, my cat is testing out optimal methods of torture?” My pet dog, her brother, was no exception. Even when she was sick and refusing to eat her own food, she still ate the dog food. George is no stranger to receiving hisses and swats. I’ll admit, he can be a little pushy when it comes to personal space. But if you steal his favorite chair from him, is it really fair to get mad when he wants it back?
Did I mention she kills baby rabbits? Because she does. In fact, she specifically targets them. She’ll parade the corpses near the door until someone notices. After she’s shown off her victims for an appropriate amount of time, she will then proceed to eat their faces off in front of you. And no, she does not clean up after herself. My backyard looks like a tiny ransacked graveyard. One night I woke up to her staring into my soul, one inch in front of my face. I’m still convinced she was checking to see if I had died so she could eat me.
But you know what the worst thing she did was? She waited for me to leave for college before she died. I mean, she had all of winter break to keel over. At least then I would have been in the same state. But nope, she just had to get me one last time. Truth be told I wasn’t expecting anything else. Still would have appreciated a heads up, though.
I love you.
