I have been very quiet for a long time because I was trying to keep a secret. I don’t like secrets, but I don’t like events that don’t reflect well on me, either. To jump right into it, I didn’t tell you that when I acquired a roommate, two additional roommates came along on the deal. Two cats now live with me. I’m not proud of that. I’m not a cat person, nor a dog person, nor an animal person of any kind. Even stuffed animals fail to get an a-a-h-h out of me! So how did I react to Mr. and Mrs. Catz? Not well, I’m afraid.
I did think that since I am larger, and presumably smarter, I would have the upper hand, and so I would be nice about them. What a farce! They moved right in and they took right over, I can tell you. It took them a little time to teach me the new rules. For instance, absolutely no cut flowers anywhere in the residence. And I love cut flowers. They came through, knocked over the vases, let the water run everywhere and tossed the marbles and the pebbles as far afield as they could. Guess who caved? No more cut flowers. No more anything that might even be confused with cut flowers, if you were a cat. But cat toys were now appearing everywhere. Most of them I ignored, some of them frightened me. But Mr. and Ms Catz decided they liked me. They rubbed up against me, the dragged their long, sharp nail though everything that kept us apart, like blankets, pajamas, tee shirts. All to get closer to me and show me how much I meant to them.
They also tried to keep me company…everywhere I went. They thought it would look uncaring to let me go to the bathroom alone. Same for trips to the kitchen, where my food, and theirs, is stored. Same for lying in bed, trying to read. It’s difficult when a large hot-bodied cat stretches out right across the book. Incidentallly, they must have had meetings when I didn’t know about it, because they never did any of these things in tandem. It was always one at a time. So I had twice the chance of not being lonely.
Incidentallly, Mr. and Mrs. Catz are not related. They are of the same breed but not the same generation. Ms. Catz is several generations older than Mr. Not that you can tell by looking at them, and not that you can tell by their actions. Ms. Catz is a flirt, and it takes the form of trying to jam her nose up my armpit. I don’t know what she has in mind, should she achieve this, but I can tell you, as I told her: I will not let this happen! I find armpits off-putting. At least Mr. Catz has no such disgusting habits. One of them, or both of them, do throw up from time to time, and that’s pretty disgusting, although relatively rare. (Now I am making excuses for their behavior! I must stop that.) I notice that my guests do not have my same reluctance to socialize with animals. Now, when they visit, (the guests, that is) they bring along cat treats and spend much time cooing at the damn felines. I don’t usually feed my guests, they should not feed my roommates. Don’t they know that?
Anyway, that’s all I know about them Catz and all I wanted you to know. Now that it is not a secret, I feel better, and let’s never talk about them again. Agreed?
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