CATS!

For some reason, I feel the need to gain approval of every cat I encounter. It's like cats are the withholding mother I never had (because my mom happens very nice). This is doubly bad because I'm allergic to cats. Some just cause a light smattering of eczema to appear on my eyelids and elbows (as everyone knows, eczema loves the letter "E"), while others cause my retinas to turn to sandpaper and my nasal passages to explode. AND YET, I still pursue the friendship of cats.

This morning, to congratulate myself for getting my circadian rhythm back on track, I decided to treat myself to a bagel in the park. As I was sitting there, eating my bagel and listening to a podcast of This American Life about crime scenes, I saw a most adorable cat meandering around a nearby tree. Said cat was seemingly stalking a rather chirpy squirrel hidden in the tree's upper branches.

 I rolled down my car window (What? You actually thought I got out of my car? Haha as if. I don't like to mingle with the common park people.) which caused the cat to notice my presence. It looked judgmental. I stuck a piece of bagel out of the car, waiving it invitingly for the cat to take because, c'mon, who doesn't love a good bagel? But all the adorable cat offered me in return was SCORN. It gave up its pursuit of Chirpy Squirrel and darted between some fence posts into the unknown.

Chirpy Squirrel was more than happy to receive the bagel bit, I might add. It took it right from my hand with its chubby little paws. (That's a lie, I threw it on the ground and the squirrel came and got it like five minutes later.)

The moral of this story is never share your bagel with anyone. Also, podcasts about crime scenes are really disturbing.

Ninja!

This is the first time this year I have felt inclined to Ninja Attack someone. I took karate for two years starting at age six, so I feel I am prepared to instigate some Ninja Action.

Here I am, trying to take a super serious quiz about what my spirit color is on the interweb, when I am interrupted by the most annoying sequence of high pitched calls. At first, I am convinced it is some sort of bizarre wildlife, because there is a copse of trees outside my window in which wildlife frequently frolics. This nonsense continues for five minutes, during which I detect a human element to the call. I crack my window, and sure enough, I can hear, "Heeeere, kittyyyy kiiiiiiiitty." Someone has lost their cat. And I know exactly who.

My apartment complex doesn't allow dogs or cats. Yet there are trouble makers among us, two idiots who have a pet cat. I assume this cat is named "Kitty", because that's what they always call it. Kitty. I've met a lot of cats named Kitty, but I've never met a dog named Doggy.
I feel bad for this cat. For some reason, they continue to let it out to roam around the apartments even though it obviously abstains from returning home on its owners' terms. Once, it was chilling in the bushes and I came up to it, trying to pet it. It looked so happy to see me. This may be my own vanity talking, but it was sniffing my hand and stuff. Then, one of its idiot owners poked his head out of a window and screamed, "Kitty, NO! BAD!" The cat gave me the saddest look and ran in the exact opposite direction of its owner. What kind of sadist would scold a cat for seeking love? What monsters!?

I've found this cat in the apartment building with the outgoing mailbox when sending mail, I've found it on my back deck, I've even found it sitting at the bus stop. Obviously, this is a cat that likes to do things its own way. And yet these imbeciles let it out, day after day, incessantly calling for it out of their window.

And here they are, interrupting my MOST important quiz-taking with their god awful, sub-human screeching. I knew that cat would make its escape sooner or later. I can see it now, hitchhiking across the Midwest, its meager bundle of cat toys wrapped in an old handkerchief.

So I may just go out there and Ninja Attack! them. (This would consist of me giving one of them a small kick in the shin, saying, "Shut the hell up," and running away.)

I could be exaggerating this whole thing a bit...but I doubt it.
Cats hitchhike all the time.

The Cat

There was this cat on the sparse patch of grass outside my apartment building. A Chartreux, I believe.

So I went up to the cat and was all, “You know cat, you and your outdoor feline comrades are currently responsible for the alarming decline of the wild bird population in the United States.”

The cat gave me this look that was all, “I don’t give a shit. Get off my sparse patch of grass.” I was a little offended, but that’s just the nature of some cats.

I happen to look up and see said cat’s owner standing in the doorway of her apartment giving me a curious look. I suddenly remembered ‘something important’ I had to do, and fled the scene posthaste.

The moral of this story: It’s perfectly fine to lecture household pets.
(There’s a 66% chance this tale stems only from my imagination.)