Well let me tell you about one of my asshole cats. Avery, or Bootsy Collins as he is referred to in some circles. You may have heard me talking about him on our radio show (you haven't? Well, listen in here). Here's the little fucker:
|Notice the eye boogies|
How is he an asshole? Let me count the ways:
1. Every morning he wakes us up earlier than we would like to feed him. How does he do that? Well, he first jumps up on the bed and tries meowing us to death. After we ignore that for a while, he decides to start knocking things off the side table. Gia's glasses? On the floor. Cellphones? On the floor. Full glass of water? That he tries to aim at one of our heads. If that doesn't work, then he jumps up on the window sill and messes with the metal blinds, making a racket. Yeah...he's a piece of work. His reward for all this is a glorious plate full of delicious tuna or salmon or whatever it is that comes out of the can. Yeah...we suck.
2. We have about a hundred cat toys strewn throughout our home. Little fake mice, felt things with bells in them, plastic doo-dads. Stuff like that. But none of them are to be found because Bootsy, more so than any of the other cats, likes to knock them underneath the refrigerator or the 1,000 pound dresser or the TV stand. Wherever it is hardest for us humans to help them retrieve them. So every night now, after he eats dinner, Bootsy walks around meowing for cat toys. And then he walks up and bites my feet. Not hard, just enough to get my attention. Gia thinks it's hilarious, because he only does it to me. Seven out of ten times it works too. Yeah...we suck.
3. Then yesterday he really needed our help. I saw him come out of the laundry room where we keep the litter boxes. And he was doing a squiggee kind of walk, so I knew something was up. Yup...little fucker shit himself all over the place. I managed to grab him before he turned that squiggee walk into a squiggee shuffle all over the carpet in an attempt to dislodge the, uh, crap. He was a mess. So I yelled for Gia and with the help of some paper towels, water and a pair of scissors we were finally able to get him clean. We both threw up a little in our mouths, but we got the job done.
OK, that last one wasn't really his fault. But when you add up the rest of his behavior, it just leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Or odor in your nose. Ugh...that was so friggin' awful. He's such an asshole.
PS - We really do love our Bootsy. For now...