Feline Frustrations

The cats in my apartment drive me absolutely NUTS. They don’t belong to me so unfortunately I can’t just toss them outside when they piss me off. They are litter mates and absolutely bonkers. My boxer used to torment them and scare them off but now it appears that things have taken a turn for the WORST…


The cat in this picture is Toodles and his sister is Moonpie. Toodles is pretty “special”. I like to think that he has some kind of cat Asperger’s syndrome. He likes to knock over any cup of water left unattended and he damn near fried my new Macbook Pro a couple weeks ago. If he had damaged it I’m pretty sure I would’ve been having cat STEW for supper. Toodles overestimates himself in many ways but the most common is in his acrobatic skill. He believes that he can make these outrageous jumps from obstacle to obstacle that only the most fit and agile of feline Olympians would be able to make. He couldn’t be more wrong in his gross overestimation of his abilities as he falls short, overshoots, just plain WHIFFS damn near all the time. This wouldn’t be a problem if he were trying to jump from one tree to another outside but inside the consequence always involve a cacophony of shit falling off of whatever surface he was attempting a stunt on. More or less he is a massive fool and having caught him with my dog Cash I’m worried. I’m worried that Cash will start to succumb to Toodles’s destructive/carefree/most-moronic way of living. I can’t bear the thought!

Moonpie is Toodles’s sister and obviously considers herself the better half. She outwits Toodles every chance she gets and many times is the cause for his “attempts” at defying gravity. It should be mentioned that Moonpie has mastered gravity and I’ve seen her run on walls like Trinity in the goddamned MATRIX. She must really get a kick out of swatting her brother in the ass and then watching him jump on to a table and knock everything down like goddamned bowling pins. Moonpie is the evil one. She delights in her brother’s torture, she likes the damp/dark places, and she relishes decaying and dieing things. I could totally see her taking part in some satanic ritual involving a mouse in the basement.

The other day I came home and found that Cash had ripped up a couch pillow while I was at school. I was pretty pissed as it had been a long day already and now I had to clean up mounds of fluff but whattayagunnado? I imagine that if I had to stay home for hours at a time with no one else around but the cats( and I couldn’t eat them)…There’s no telling what I’d do to vent my frustrations. And, it remains to be proven that it was Cash, the cats could’ve done a professional cover up job and framed his ass.

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