Cats are horrible. I should know. I have one. I have been both a Dog Person and a Cat Person at various stages of my life, and currently, I’d have to describe myself as an Indentured Cat Person. Like most things, I blame this on my daughters. I’ve come to realize that my cat secretly hates me
After two years of genocide-level deaths of hamsters, guinea pigs, fish and frogs – all in the name of developing “pet responsibility,” you understand – the girls begged for a cat. Pleaded for it. Drew pictures of Happy Families With Cats and left them on my bed. Then one day, the Petco down the street had an Adoption Day, and before you could say, “this will not end well for the cat,” we had Jazzy.
All snark and venom aside, the girls sincerely love Jazzy, in a gushy, smothering, pure-of-heart way that all creatures should be loved. In return, Jazzy loves the kids, and provides moments of Instagram-shattering cuteness. But the cat hates me, because deep down in their tiny, feline hearts, all cats hate you in three significant ways:
1. Your cat would gladly sell you to sex traffickers for a bowl of kibble.
Hey, I’m totally a Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs kind of guy, so I get it that there’s nothing more important than eating. But cats are next-level shit when it comes to breakfast. Jazzy mews and screams and runs in circles under my feet as I prepare an appetizing bowl full of whatever the hell that is in that tiny can, but if you want to describe that as gratitude, just remember he’d do the same thing if Stalin came into the house and fed him.
2. Cats hate material objects.
Little known fact: a cat’s number one mission in life is to destroy. Matter is the mortal enemy of all cats. If it is composed of atoms and molecules, it must be demolished. Some people call this “playing,” but these people are rookies. I used to own things that I like. Now I live in what can only be described as a glorified cat box.
3. Your cat talks shit about you behind your back
The other day as I returned home, my neighbor was coming out of her apartment.
“Hey!” she said. “Is that a kitty cat I hear mewing behind your door?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I’m sorry, is he being really loud?”
“Oh no. He just sounds…kinda angry?”
Sounds about right. Jazzy sits behind the door all day, fatigued from destroying every material object that holds any value to me, pissed off that Stalin isn’t coming around to feed him, and talks shit about me to any neighbor that will listen.
In Conclusion To Signs Your Cat Hates You
Well, what’s a guy to do? Sometimes I think it’s an uneasy truce between Jazzy and I: the feline equivalent of an “It’s Complicated” relationship status on Facebook. But sometimes…sometimes, when I lay down to sleep, Jazzy will snuggle up, give me a purr and make it seem like perhaps it was a good idea to try and domesticate predators.
Your Cat’s Desire To Kill You In Your Sleep Pairs With:
Though I think maybe a glass of wine of six would do wonders for that cat, other people, some of whom work in law enforcement, would probably frown on this idea. So save it for me, instead. And when it’s time to drink six glasses in one sitting, it’s usually best not to spend that much. Surprisingly, this Joel Gott SB does the trick, and I’m not trying come off all I’m-Not-A-Grocery-Store-Wine-Guy snobby. In fact, if you need that kind of rationale, this wine was named one of Wine Spectator’s Top 100 Wines of 2018. So, twist off that screw cap, let the cat out and enjoy.