Yet again, I’m pretty sure that God tuned into the Slapstick Hour at my house last night and again this morning. Not only did I trip, fall and crack the base of my hand against the top of a wire cat carrier but I…well, read the letter I wrote to the fluff-for-brains who’ve been staying with me.
Dear fucksticks masquerading as cats,
No, it is NOT considered common courtesey to poop in the laundry of the person whose house you are guesting at. Especially when there has been a litter box made available for just that purpose. Just so you know, finding the hairball/food barf in my stash of homebrew did NOT endear you to me, either. Also, hissing at me when I came into the pantry to clean up your mess is considered a social faux pas.
I haven’t seen much of you – except the wads of fluff that you shed all over the damn place during the night. Every morning I wipe up all the fur that is littered all over my kitchen, including on top of the counters. I’m pretty sure that either I or the well-behaved kitty who *lives* here explained that I don’t want critters on the kitchen counters. Because that’s just nasty to me. But, I’ve let this slide as you are guests. That shit is at an end, though.
Now, I totally grok that you are nervous, high strung critters. You’ve had a troubled life, or whatever, I’m sure. To be honest, I don’t fucking care. I did care that you were in need of a place to stay. And lo, I have made my home available to you for these past few weeks. But you have worn out your welcome here. I thought so last night and I am double sure of it this morning. This morning is the final fucking straw.
Knowing how big-eyed-oh-fucking-noes! you are, I placed you two in the bathroom with food, water and the litter box while I cleaned. Big, scary vacuum noises might make you pee or poop somewhere I’d rather you didn’t.
Since I didn’t want you to trash the place I had just made immaculate again, I thought I would leave you in there overnight. Everybody happy. You ensconced in together where you don’t have to interact with anyone or anything else. Me, the Girl and Macha hanging out together. It was a peaceful night. No yowling, no cat fights and more importantly – NO poop anywhere in the laundry! Yay!
When I got up this morning and tried to open the door to give you breakfast and fresh water, I found you knob-jobs had slid the drawer directly in front of the bathroom door open. You know what this means, don’t you? Yeah, the door is blocked and I can’t get in there, oh, at all. And I had to leave because I had to be at work at a certain time.
Fortunately, last night I had given you a pile of food. And, there is a toilet with the seat up. You will be fine for the nonce. I will be home in a couple of hours for lunch. Hopefully I will figure out a way to get your stupid selves out of this mess.
No love at all,
7 thoughts on “This is YOUR Life….”
I know this isn’t funny, but I laughed all the way through it. Cats are such little monsters!
Cats are evil. But at least they’re honest about it.
And these guys more so than most.
I love cats, I truly do. But these useless furbags are just sucking up oxygen that I could put to better use.
Doing any-fucking-thing else.
That was awesome. As in, I’m awed.
I’m terribly sorry about your houseguests being so rude, and wish you luck in fixing the problem ASAP.
Like I said, I’m usually a cat person but I am starting to have my doubts about these fuzz-sacks actually *being* cats.
Mostly awed that you put together such a comprehensive letter. It read somewhat humorously, although you may be too fed up to be laughing much right now.
Then again, I haven’t read much that you’ve written, so maybe this is just a taste of what I can look forward to, in terms of style, at least, in the future.
ugh.. funny. but ugh.
I hope you get in there and they’ve not created total chaos and mayhem.