Mon Petit Amour

There is cat fur all over everything I own. I have no idea why my cat is not bald with all the fur he leaves all over my stuff. I love him very much. Unavoidably he will someday pass into the great catnip field in the sky, when this happens, I will probably need sedation. I have to leave him home alone all day when I am working. I am afraid he is lonely. I wish I could bring him to work with me. I know that is weird, but I do. Whenever I come home, no matter how long I have been gone, I feel so badly because he just wants to be with me. He did not get the memo about kitties being aloof. He will mew at me plaintively when I get home until I pick him up. He has no patience while I put down my purse and keys, and remove my coat; all hell breaks loose if I have the audacity to do anything else before addressing his needs. He wants me to carry him around for awhile each night. Snuggled with his head nuzzled into my armpit. I guess he likes Secret. I got him from the dog pound almost six years ago. He came right up to the bars and rubbed his whiskers on me. I was his, he had marked me.

My cat is a homo. He really likes men a lot. It takes him a long time to warm up to any other women besides me. One of my best friends says my cat is not a homo, he just knows how his bread is buttered, nah, he’s a homo. Men I date, male relatives and friends, contractors, and male neighbors who stop by to visit enthrall him, he is all over them. He runs enthralled around their legs, marks their tool boxes with his whiskers, and hurls himself in their laps to have his ears scratched. I think maybe I just know a lot of nice man type people since they all, every one, have always enjoyed his misguided homoerotic attentions, and have been just as happy to pet him as he is to be pet. I would really like to get him a puppy. Aside from being a homo, he also really likes dogs. I think he is very confused, but I love him in all his furry glory with all my heart. My cat does not go outside. I want to protect him and have him live a long safe happy life. He meets dogs that come to visit him, dogs of relatives and friends and neighbors. He likes them a lot. He likes to play with them, and sit with them, and tease them.

I tried getting him a cat a few years ago. I wanted him to have someone to play with and keep him company when I was at work. I got him a used kitty from an acquaintance whose mother could no longer care for her cat. The new kitty I got was a bit long in the tooth, and eventually I found out she had some serious health problems. She only lived a year after I got her. In the end she turned out to be more of a dominatrix than a companion for my kitty. She constantly hissed at him, hogged the litter pan, and stole his food. This was a very dark time for my kitty. He expressed his displeasure with the interloper by having a pissing contest, literally, with the new kitty. They peed my rug, my bed, my furniture, Everything. Thank goodness I found some amazing cat pee remover.

Since the suspicious demise of the other kitty, my cat has been a very happy only child. He basks in the sunshine of my love. Helping me hone my housekeeping skills by rubbing himself all over clean dishes in the dish drainer so I have to wash them again. Impishly glaring at me as if I am insane when I demand he remove himself form the kitchen table and cease using my date's salad as a play toy. He is kind enough to see to it that I do not get over heated when I sleep by gathering the blanket around himself, after he has grudgingly moved slightly from his fully stretched out diagonal position across the bed to allow me to sneak in on the edge. He helps me with laundry by hanging from sheets as I fold them, knocking over neatly stacked piles of folded clothing, and letting me know it is not a good time to fold clothes by stubbornly sitting on top of the laundry basket.

He makes sure I am properly potty trained by accompanying me every time he sees me go near the bathroom. He is mindful of my hygiene by sitting of the edge of the tub staring in around the shower curtain to be sure I wash my hair, and do not miss a spot when I shave my legs. He cleverly sees to it that I do not spend too much time sitting on my ass doing nothing by napping on the remote so I must get up to manually operate the television. He is a computer whiz, and makes sure he sits on my desk between me and the keyboard. He needs to assure I attain maximum efficiency, occasionally rolling onto the keyboard in a fit of pique at my poor grasp of technology. I fear he is only using me for amazing dexterity with a can opener, having no thumbs himself.