Wednesday, August 17, 2005

I Hate Cats

I'm going to say right off the bat that out of the dog/cat/bird/fish pet spectrum I am a dog person.

I hate cats.

In fact if my date has a cat she has a simple choice to make: me or the puss.

These two objects are mutually exclusive. They CANNOT comingle. They CANNOT peaceably live together. It's IMPOSSIBLE - one divided by zero sort of stuff.

Kapiche?

Ok good.

However... every dog has his day and I had mine. So, just in case you're having a lousy day maybe this short story will help brighten your day... just DON'T jump to any rash conclusions!

Ok, give me a few seconds here while I settle down.

Many moons ago (probably a year ago now because I can remember it was so friggin cold) I was asked by a female friend if I could house sit her place.

Being the gentleman that I am I had no problem with it.

On the day of her departure she gave me some basic instructions on things to do as well as where my sleeping quarters were (her bed!) and what to do with her dog... and cat.

Cat?

Yes, cat.

I couldn't tell her there was going to be a problem with the cat as it was too late. She had to rush, she wouldn't have been able to get another housesitter within the 10 seconds she had between the door and her car.

Damn.

"If there's any hassles let us know," she said as she speedily raced out the door.

Man, I wished she could've taken her cat.

This had to be a test from God, I thought.

Maybe if I just dump its food into its container, never be around or look at it... it will never know I'm here... out of sight out of mind? Yes?

The plan seemed good.

Brandi, the dog of the house, was a joy. She was easy to walk, easy to please and easy to feed.

But the cat.

That damned cat.

I hadn't seen the cat at all during the first day, but as I'd been out for the majority of the day it was to be expected... and planned!

When night settled in I fed Brandi according to my friend's requests, I also covered her with the doggie blanket as well as provided her with fresh water.

When it came time to feed the cat I noticed that its food and water hadn't been touched all day... so I left it.

No sooner had I packed everything away I heard the tinkle of a bell echoing outside. The tinkle grew louder and louder until I was met face to face with the beast.

It meowed, check me up and down and then proceeded to rub its body against my leg.

"Ok let's get something straight here cat," I said looking down into its green eyes, "you stay out of sight and there will be no sad news for our friend when she comes back, ok?"

Meow.

I didn't know whether that was a yes or a no, but I think it understood. If it didn't I was hoping that maybe it understood the seriousness in my eyes.

Either way I left the kitchen and set up my sleeping quarters.

The cat followed me into the bedroom and began meowing again.

"Cat, you're either a slow learner, or you're eager to lose one of your 9 lives, because if you mess with me I guarantee there will be more than one of your 9 lives lost."

I did the serious eyeballing thing again and it looked away.

It was probably searching for its owner. Things weren't right. The cat probably thought it was being punished - Satan had come to stay as house guest for a few nights.

Whatever.

So, after setting up my sleeping quarters, observing the surroundings (who sleeps with plants in the room??) I shut the door behind me, leaving the cat out in the hallway.

I switched off the lights and crashed. Easy.

Scratch, scratch. Meow. Meow.

Apparently not so.

I had obviously forgotten something.

I tried to muffle the cats complaints by breathing heavily, unfortunately when I started to hyperventilate that idea had to stop.

Scratch, scratch.

Meow. Meow.

"Cat! I swear if I open that door you can kiss one of your 9 lives goodbye," I yelled.

There was silence.

Was it something I said?

Was it the tone of my voice?

I didn't care.

The cat finally heeded to what I had said and now I was reaping the benefits. I closed my eyes and began to drift off to sleep.

A minute or so later there was a rapping at the window.

You've gotta be kiddin' me?

Meow. Meow.

I covered my head with the pillow. For about 30 seconds I didn't hear anything, but then due to lack of oxygen I had to discard *that* idea.

"Let me in, let me in," I could hear it scream. The meows began echoing through my head, through the room, through the house, through the neighbourhood... I couldn't stand it any longer!!

DAMN IT!

DAMN YOU, CAT!

I got out of my comfortable warm position in bed and opened the friggin window.

"WHAT?"

"What is it that you could possibly want?" I demanded.

I was frustrated - there was nothing more I wanted to do than to kick that cat over the moon.

The cat jumped into the room and looked around.

It saw the warm bed and jumped on it.

"Oh no you don't."

I picked it up off the bed and went into the kitchen.

"Is it food? Do you want a late night snack?"

I looked around the kitchen for anything that was a good sedative, if not for the cat then maybe for me!

I couldn't find anything.

Darn it.

"Well I don't know what it is I can give you," I said, turning around.

But the cat was gone.

I checked its bowl and noticed that half the meal had now gone.

Hmm, maybe it just needed some encouragement.

I yawned, switched off the kitchen lights and crashed onto the bed again.

No noise.

All was silent.

Bliss.

I closed my eyes turned onto my right side and began to fade away.

Brrr. Brrrr.

I heard this strange sonar like sound. Was I having a dream? On a submarine??

Plit. Plit. Plit.

Was something dripping? No. It sounded like something licking itself??

Why would a submarine lick itself?

Then it dawned on me.

The friggin cat was on the bed!

I quickly jumped out of the bed, flicked the light on and waited for my eyes to adjust to the new light.

And there it was staring at me.

"Would you just come back to bed, and turn that damned light off," it said through the way it peered at me.

"CAT! There's not a snowflake's chance in hell I'm sleeping with you!"

I grabbed it and threw it outside.

Meow. Meow.

Well I hope God was getting some enjoyment out of this, because I sure wasn't!

I was becoming more and more tired.

(Suffocating, feeding cats and hyperventilating sure takes it toll on the body.)

Meow. Meow.

I didn't know what to do.

Meow. Meow.

"OKAY OKAY!" I yelled.

Truth be told I knew I had no other way of reconciling this. My friend undoubtably slept with this cat and there was no way of getting this cat to sleep anywhere else. I was either going to have to sleep on the floor or... hold it... just edging myself slowly into this train of thought... softly now... sleep with the cat!

NoooOoOooooo.

Meow. Meow.

I heaved a sigh and chose the latter. There was no way I was going to sleep on the floor just because the damn cat wanted the bed.

"What happens tonight doesn't leave this room," I said opening the door.

By now it was about 2am in the morning and I had given up. My sleep was more precious to me than my pride.

"You can sleep wherever you like, but I swear if you touch any part of my body you will lose all sense of feeling from the neck down. And if I accidentaly roll on top of you and you suffocate and die it's your own stupid fault with sleeping something 10 times your size."

It didn't care.

Cats never care.

All night that dumb cat probably slept with a grin on its face... just like that damn Cheshire cat in Alice and Wonderland.

But I was too tired to fight. To tired to care. My ultra-sensitive sleep nodes switched off and I never heard or felt a thing all night.

(The cat could have licked my nipples all night and I probably wouldn't have known the difference!)

Then morning arrived.

By the time I awoke there was no trace of the cat anywhere, but the bed sure stank.

Yuk.

It was the first AND last time I ever let him sleep in the same bed as me.

For the remaining three other nights I put up with his constant meowing and his constant pleas to sleep with me again and was able to doze off.

It felt good being in control.

No longer did this damn cat rule the roost. Sure, I succumbed to pressure the first night, but that was the first and last time. As the days wore on I saw less and less of that stupid cat and I was glad that *I* was laying down the terms and not IT.

When my female friend returned I left a note that read,

"Dear Carlie,

Hope your trip went well.

Haven't seen your cat for awhile... it may have gone searching for you!

Don't ask."


So there you have it.

My "adventure" with an old male ginger cat called Tibbs. I hope you've had your fun.

:oP~


Ryan

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