Years ago, my then girlfriend decided to get a cat. The conversation went as follows:
“I want to get a cat.”
“Do you want to go with me to pick one out?”
“Don’t you want a cat?”
“I grew up with cats, honey. I don’t really like them.”
“You don’t want me to get a cat?”
“No. I don’t really care if you do. But I want to make it clear: I will not feed it, I will not give it water, I will not change its litter, I will not play with it. I might pet it if its around me.”
“That’s fine. I’ll do all that.”
Seeing how she was an adult, I figured it was settled. I am so dumb sometimes.
So we went out and she picked out a cat. I have to admit, it was a good choice. It was the runt of the litter and it was one of those Hemingway cats that have the extra toe.
A couple of months later, I was washing clothes, and she was changing the litter. I asked her something and she snapped at me.
The conversation went as follows:
“What the hell? What’s your problem?”
“You. Ever since we got the cat, you haven’t changed his litter ONCE. You haven’t fed him ONCE. I’ve done it all. But you sure as hell pet him.”
“Whoa! Wait a minute. Did we not have a conversation before we got the cat? I told you I wouldn’t be doing any of it. You said no problem. You said you’d do it. Do you not remember that?”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I thought you were lying.”
“Why the hell would I lie about that?”
“So are you going to start doing any of it?”
She was getting more pissed.
“Because I told you from the beginning I wasn’t going to do any of it,” I said. “I’m not going to start now.”
“But he’s our cat!”
“Correction. He’s your cat.”
“So you wouldn’t care if I got rid of him,” She said. I’m fairly certain that wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
“Not really,” I replied. I knew she wouldn’t.
I got the silent treatment the rest of the day.
This post was originally going to be about that same dumbass cat. Which is for all intents and purposes mine, now. But to go through all that, the post would be super long.
So this is probably going to be a three parter with little payoff. Don’t get your hopes up, it’s just going to be what a bonehead that cat is.
And I will not make this a pet blog. Or start a pet blog as my cat. That’s one of the damn dumbest blog ideas I’ve come across. I can’t fathom why some people think that sort of thing is cute — either the readers or the creators. Animals aren’t human, people.
But I could be lying.