In the spirit of Family Circus and Bill Keane, we bring you a guest column from John’s cat Maddy, as John is under the weather.
This certainly wasn’t part of my plan today, but here we are.
I hope you appreciate the sacrifice I’m making here, as this column is cutting into my chair-top nap plan and pushes back my frantic-run-around-the-house schedule by at least 30 minutes.
John asked me to guest-author a column this week about hard-hitting issues, and he said it would be best to just be honest and not hold back, so here goes: What is the deal with litter boxes? You’re not fooling anyone… we know it’s just a simulated sandbox. You’re stripping the joy out of the process by just scooping everything out and not letting random children discover our handiwork while they play in there with their bare hands.
Next, you need to get over yourself when we’re hacking up a giant hairball on the antique rug. Oh, it’s “gross” and the sound we make is “scaring the children.” Boo. Hoo. You realize we are responsible for brushing our entire body with our tongue, right?
Speaking of that … there’s no polite way to say this, but we also have to use our tongues as toilet paper. Have you seen our tongues? They’re covered with razor-sharp pointed barbs. Next time you’re complaining about that single-ply toilet paper at the office, imagine what we’re dealing with every day back at the litter box.
We have to talk about the dry food. We’re carnivores. If you did the right thing and released me from this legalized hostage-taking I could show you in about five minutes how well I can hunt and what actual meat looks like. Those mounds of concrete are a joke. If the alternative wasn’t starvation I’d show you where you can roll those tasteless balls of garbage. Sure, some Poindexter with a lab coat tells you this stuff has “nutrients” and “suppresses hairballs” and adds something called “vitality,” but you’re being duped by the “important-sounding pet food ingredient” lobby.
Let’s shift our focus to what you consider “playtime.” Wow, that bug on a string is really convincing. Oh yes, it’s so lifelike, with that string flitting about the room. It’s just like in nature, where those dragonflies are tethered to the back porch. So much wow.
And the laser pointer on the wall? Really? Is this the best you can come up with? Why don’t you go outside and shine it at airliners … that is about as rewarding. (Editor’s note: It is extremely illegal and dangerous to do this. John’s cat does not understand the legal system.)
As for the inviting soft furry belly thing with the come-hither glance? Yes, it’s a trap. We can’t believe you keep falling for that. But I will say when you do feed us wet food with real meat, and chase us around the house at full speed, sometimes we’ll let you touch it for a few seconds. You’ve earned it.
We also don’t hate when you brush us when you get home from work, until the split second when we decide we hate it very much. And I will say the snuggling when you’re snoring makes us feel loved, but don’t tell anyone or I’ll cut you in your sleep.
Well, that was surprisingly cat-thartic.
Gotta go. Those birds aren’t going to watch themselves.
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