I am an animal lover. Because of this I have cats. If you have been reading for sometime you’ll know I’m a dog person. I think the reason for this begins and ends with one thing. Kneading biscuits. That’s where the cat comes up on you and paws you, usually on your attractive muffin top, and then hums like they are having the time of their life. Well cats, I don’t like it. I know I need to tighten up my midsection, you don’t have to point it out everyday. Why can’t you just lay there quietly, unobtrusively, sweetly? I get that this is some throw back to your days at a kitten, but grow up already. Your mom gave you up. She didn’t love you. Wah wah wah! Get over it. You’re nine years old which is nearly dead in cat years. Move on.
Then, since I’m at it, there’s the constant chatter. Meow meow meow, I’m hungry, I want to go out, my litter box is too full. I get it. Stop repeating yourself. I hear you. I’ll get to it when I’m good and ready. I’ve been asking you for years to quit kneading biscuits and you don’t. I just don’t feel heard in our relationship. Plus I have thumbs, so you should do what I say. I AM the boss of you, get it?
In short, be a dog. Until you can do that one little thing, it seems we are at an impasse. Yes, I’ll feed you, I’ll let you out, I’ll empty your litter box. but that’s just to keep you quiet. If you want me to love you, you gotta quit the biscuit kneading. That’s my line in the sand.
That’s my one requirement. Just this one little thing. Please? Please? Hey, you, cat….I’m talking to you (continues kneading biscuits)……