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Published March 25, 2013



You walk in the door from work. You hear the pitter-patter of old Rover coming to see his favourite person. His tongue's out and his tail's wagging so much his whole ass is moving side to side. Seeing this makes you happy. Plainly. Rover follows you around the kitchen as you say hello to the house and stays by your side as you get up to your room and unwind. He licks your face and tries to jump up on the bed with you to just spend some quality time. After a half hour of watching TV, you see your cat's been there the whole time. On top of the TV. The only reason you notice is because it's leg began to hang off the top of the TV and therefore in front of the screen. Your cat just don't give a fuck. Neither do you. You yell "GET OFF!" and try and wave off the unresponsive lump of a cat. It doesn't move. Neither do you. Stalemate. Oh…it's 5 30 PM. Time to feed Rover. "Come on, buddy!". You slowly get off the bed and walk down the hall and down the stairs. Your dog realizes what's happening as you hear him bound off the bed and on to the carpet in your room, down the stairs and next to you. As you're getting dog food out of the bag and putting it in to the bowl, Rover's jumping up and down next to the counter, super. fucking. eager. Where's your cat? Who gives a shit? Not you.

A few days later, Rover's at the vet. "Hmm…what is there to do…." "Cat! Cat! Where are you?" The cat appears between the banisters in the second floor hallway. You go in to another room and grab a fake mouse and squeeze it so it makes a screechy noise. The cat doesn't move. You unravel it and drag the mouse by a string, all across the ground. The cat pounces on it. Game over. The cat takes it and won't let go. "K. Whatever. Fuck it. Did I feed you? Oh well."


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