Last week I saw a bunch of friends I hadn't talked to in a while, and they asked about my cats. And I had to admit that I only have one cat, and the reason I haven't told the end of the Tragic Tale of Oops is that I'm embarrassed. I'm embarrassed that I have a biting, scratching, pain in the butt cat living in my house, and he started attacking people when he saw Oops outside. Like, all four sets of claws and a full white set of teeth, sunk into the leg of the person nearest the door when he saw Oops making friends outside. Gigolo had a bad case of alpha cat jealousy, and I started to realize that maybe when we first brought him inside, all injured and meow-y, it wasn't because he was being bullied. It was because he was being a bully and getting scratched up when other cats defended themselves.
Damn cat.
And Oops was all sweet and cuddly and never scratched or bit a single person, oh, and it gets better, OOPS WAS HURT. She had a bite mark on her tail that wasn't healing. But I couldn't bring her inside because Gigolo would eat her up. About this time my dad, with his engineering and MBA wisdom, pointed out that though I feel invested in Gigolo with all his vet visits and treats and toys, he's a sunk cost. I won't get my money back, and it may be time to cut my losses and get a Good Cat. And oh, I was tempted. At Ed's birthday party Gigolo pulled that teeth and claws move on a guest, who was fortunately wearing jeans, and Gigolo will never know how close he came to being chucked out the back door.
And the reason he wasn't? Because I CAN'T GET RID OF HIM. I'm positive that he'd just walk right back in the house, or sit on the porch and meow and meow, and fight other cats, until we let him back inside. Like he did in January. Like he does if I lock him in the other room after he does something terrible. I realized that I'm completely stuck with this black-and-white menace, and it would be cruel to Oops to bring her into Gigolo's territory.
But don't feel too bad for Oops yet, she's met the kitty equivalent of Santa Claus. I hope this is a smug look on her face:
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This is why I hate cats. Well, this and the sneezing. And the itching. And the crying.
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