I used to like cats.
I had one once that I loved. The main reason for my affection was that he thought he was a dog.
If he wanted affection he would wander over, lie down at my feet and roll over to have his tummy tickled. He loved going for walks and would walk up to the pub with me, wait on a gatepost while I had a few pints and then merrily walk home with me again.
Now we have a cat who is a cunt, plain and simple.
He never misses an opportunity to piss me off. If he isn’t yowling to go out he’s yowling to come in again. In between, he yowls for food or he just plain yowls for no fucking reason at all.
Last night I was sitting here enjoying my last whiskey and a smoke. Cat was wandering around the place just yowling. Every now and then he’d wander into the room I was clearing out and there would be a crash and he would knock over another pile of carefully sorted stuff.
He yowled at the door a couple of times and I was sorely tempted to fuck him out into the gale and lashing rain in the dark, but the grief I would get from Herself wasn’t worth it.
Suddenly he jumped on my lap, rammed his arsehole in my face and started that business of scraping my kneecaps off with his claws. It was really fucking painful.
Now I know some people will say that this is a show of affection but why does he have to flay my leg in the process? Can you imagine standing up in court and telling the judge that you rammed a kitchen knife into your missus as a sign of affection? I doubt he would be sympathetic? The same should apply to cats.
Anyway I got rid of him by blowing smoke up his arsehole. Well, he shouldn’t have rammed it in my face, especially when I was smoking my pipe. He ran off leaving a trail of smoke behind him. The dog enjoyed that and sniggered.
When I went to bed he was yowling at the washing machine.