We adopted a cat from our friend when she moved to England. I usually like cats.
But this cat ain’t right.
It’s stumpy. So stumpy it can’t come down the stairs properly and so must hop like a rabbit. It can’t jump into laps, either, so it’ll just claw itself up your leg. Oh, and the bed as well.
It has bad breath. It drools. It coughs up hairballs in my pajama drawer. We heard it vomit in the night a few days ago- but we never found the results.
It bugs. It has an unholy attachment to me, even though I am the person who hates the cat the most. I have to lock it out of the bedroom because it sleeps ON me. If I sleep on my back, then it sleeps on my chest. On my stomach? It sleeps on my ass. Side? It’ll just drape itself around my waist and dig its paws into my kidneys. It’s been known to sleep ON the baby as well.
It STARES. Puts its beasty eye almost against yours while you sleep and STARES until you wake up.
It’s fat and food-obsessed. It steals food off our plates and hangs around under the baby’s highchair. It fishes in the disposal for treasure. It knocks over the trash. It eats anything- even pureed squash.
It meows and meows ONLY when we put the baby to bed.
It gnaws its own toenails. Loudly.
It refuses the scratching post, but destroys the rug.
Its bizarrely posessive- it’ll growl at anyone who comes to the door, but then promptly hides because it is shy.
I really hate my cat.
And it’s only 8, so I have about 10 years of crappy cat love before I’m rid of it.
Now I understand why it returned to the shelter (twice) before my friend adopted it.
Damn this thrice-recycled cat.