The one about my cat

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It’s two o’clock in the morning, and instead of being in a sweet little slumber after a long day, I’m awake. Why you ask? At approximately 1:30am I jolted out of my bed after watching an episode of Roseanne, to a bitterly disturbing sound coming from my window. Previous to this incident, my friends and I were scared out of our minds when 1) my cat made the sound that incredibly resembled a human being and thus 2) made us think someone was in the house. After doing a once over, armed with a broom, we decided the coast was clear. I popped in some Roseanne to settle my nerves and give me a laugh, and was all ready to rest my sleepy eyes when BAM 1:30am rolls around. At this point in the evening, it sounded as if someone was undoing the latch on my bedroom window and trying to get it. I slowly get out of bed, this time armed with a candle and a look on my face that said “I may poop my pants at any moment.” And then I saw a more disturbing sight than what I had thought I would see. It wasn’t a scary man at my window trying to get in and rip off all my audio/visual equipment, it wasn’t my creepy night guard either. It was my cat, with blood all over his face. Apparently he had just been in a serious kitty cat fight, either that or had a foiled attempt at mating. I’m pretty sure it was the fight and he lost, because my cat is a mega wimp. He’s never killed a bird and dragged it into the house and we’re all pissed about it. Not only was he covered in blood and confusion, but he was covered in shit. It was as if someone had smeared a day old poopy diaper all over his body. I ran to the bathroom to fill a bucket of water before he climbed his way in and rubbed his shitty body all over my bed. Once I yanked him through the window I was able to dunk him in the soapy bucket, which is not an easy task for those of you who have tried to bathe your cat before. I never thought I would actually come to the point where I bathed cats since they are “self cleaning”, but this was just completely necessary. If I let him just clean himself, then he would come and lick my face while I was sleeping with his poop tongue. He was making loud, horrendous sounds similar to those I made when I had malaria. At this point there is a loud party in my bathroom, and my roommate wakes up. After some failed attempts to get 3pac in the bathtub, I decided to just hose him down while shmearing my shaving cream all over his diarrhea body. It’s still a mystery to me how he got soupy poop all over his body, and yet didn’t have any on his actual butt. I’m sticking with the assumption that he rolled around in some other cat’s poop. I can’t handle the thought that he may actual have found human fecal matter and that I touched it. I rolled him up in a towel like a little burrito and hoped for the best. It was highly traumatic for the both of us…

Quote of the post:
“Why is the dove the international symbol for peace? I think the pillow should be the new symbol. It has more feathers, and doesn’t have that sharp, dangerous beak.” -Jack Handey (Deep Thoughts)

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