“He’s beautiful!” my wife exclaimed as the cat strutted across the living room carpet towards us. We were sitting on the couch waiting to greet our friend’s cat. She was moving and her new apartment did not allow pets. She had brought her cat to us in the hope we would adopt him.
“He’s pure white and goes great with the furniture!” my wife gushed. I rolled my eyes and silently groaned. As a former farm boy, my view of cats was much different. Cats are a disposable commodity not a decorating choice. But I was willing to be the “good husband” and let my wife have what she wanted. If a short-haired, all white, feline was it, he could be the neutered member of the family.
The cat stopped in the middle of the room and looked around briefly before walking forward and calmly springing to the center of the couch between us. He turned towards my wife and pushed his head into her waiting hand. His raised tail pointed at me and he farted. Not a big one, but definitely audible and fired in my direction. It was a warning shot we ignored at our own risk. My wife laughed at the gas event and announced, “He’s PERFECT! We’ll definitely take him.”
One year later, the cat competed with our infant for attention and control of the house. The baby clearly had priority status and the cat fought in creative ways to sabotage things. A moment of parental distraction and the bowl of soup got knocked off the high chair to the floor. Did the cat do that or was it the baby? We could not always tell.
Later, a horrible retching sound emanated from the bedroom. Another hairball? Gross. We would run in there and discover a large quantity of cat vomit on the pile of clean laundry. This time it hit a shirt, some socks, and a corner of a beach towel that never recovered from the stain. More items for the rag bin.
Wait! Where is the cat now? Oh no! He’s pooping on the dining room rug while looking straight at us. “What are you going to do about it?” he seemed to be saying. “This is what I think about your stupid baby. I was here first.” he went on staring in defiance as he dumped his bowels. How long had he been saving that load?
Today, you can write about whatever you what — but your post must include, in whatever role you see fit, a cat, a bowl of soup, and a beach towel.