I have an odd relationship with my cat. It's rather adversarial and frankly, a little weird.
He's kind of a dick.
Maybe it stems back to kittenhood trauma, when mama Chloe was forced to evacuate her babies from under my bed when an ex and I got a little too frisky. She sure as hell didn't like me much. Nor him, for that matter. Maybe in his little kitty brain he was traumatized by the late night flight and has been trying to get back at me ever since.
Maybe it's because I never intended to keep him. My status as his owner is a begrudging one. He was one of the last of a litter that I had a bitch of a time finding homes for. My girls, heartbroken after Chloe ran away (and who can blame her? I'd run away too if I had two nearly-grown sons who were trying to rape me on a daily basis), wrested a promise that if Chloe didn't ome back, we could keep Simon.
That's right. Cats have no natural incest taboo. Apparently that's totally a human social construct. Way to find that out the hard way.
But yeah.. We have a bit of a passive-aggressive thing going on. Some people treat their cats and other pets like children. Mine is more like a belligerent room-mate that wrecks my shit and doesn't contribute to the grocery bill.
He's kind of a dick.
Even other cats don't like him. I can hardly let him outside without him getting his ass handed to him by other neighborhood cats. And I get it, I totally get it.
Did I mention that he likes to 'lay claim' to stuff of mine, in that special, disgusting way male cats have of saying "mine!"? Yeah. My winter coat. My guitar case. Various pieces of furniture.
My children. Me. I don't think I need to elaborate, do I? Let's just say, I do a lot more laundry when he gets feeling territorial.
I decided to get on the ball and get all his shots up to date so I can get him snipped so hopefully he'll A) not be so damned possessive of everything, B) quit pissing off the other cats and C) shut up once in a while. Seriously. Loudest Cat Ever.
Plus, it's good for their health to have their Immunizations up to date. Hell, I'm nice enough that I even bought him the crazy vet cat food instead of friskies because I'm NICE and I don't WANT him to get crystals in his urine.
And how does he repay me for PROTECTING HIM FROM DISEASE AND TRYING TO ENSURE HE DOESN'T GET CRYSTALLIZED URINE ALL UP IN HIS URETHRA?
By unleashing and unholy torrent of every bodily fluid imaginable on the way home in the cat carrier, and rolling around in it for good measure. Which resulted in me having to figure out how to clean the carrier (which is out in my yard right now, on "low priority") and more importantly, how the hell to clean this cat?
I've mentioned I don't have a tub right?
So this involves me having to shut myself up in the shower stall with a very unhappy, piss-and-shit covered cat. You're enjoying this image, aren't you? Perverts.
Now I sit, exhausted and drinking wine and blogging and the little bugger is curled up next to me like nothing happened and like there isn't a gouge in my foot from when he tried to make a break for it. What a kiss-ass.
Jeezy creepy, I almost forgot! I Have an awkward guest post up at Best of Fates. If you haven't read Megan's stuff, I highly recommend it. Plus I have respect for anyone who abuses brackets like I tend to abuse ellipses...
And paragraph breaks.