W.C. Fields

Let the record reflect that I’m not a cat person…hell, I’m barely a dog person and when I found out The Mc had a feline — it was almost a deal breaker. Almost. Her name is Amber and she’s a princess to be sure, which is almost enough to make me love her unwaveringly HOWEVER she and I have a few small issues.

~ She’s needy and insists on interrupting when I’m talking to The Mc on the phone
~ She’s overweight, takes no pride in her appearance and shows no self control at the food bowl
~ She has bootie cleanliness issues

Yeah, little Ms. Thang has quite the dingleberry collection and despite The Mc scrubbing her hamhocks on a regular basis she insists on continuing the hobby.

She also has a habit of doing wind sprints in the middle of the night, which I suspect is just an effort to outrun the dingleberries. She’ll get revved up and haul ass out of the bedroom and down the hall, with claws gripping carpet in a way that’s less than pleasing to the ears. This is usually followed by a trip to the crapper, which is one of those fancy electronic jobs that refreshes the litter 10 minutes after she’s exited. Maybe she does the sprints to pressure her bowels, but I suspect otherwise. I also suspect she hates me.

So last night went something like this:
8:00 – Get to the house, Amber hangs in the living room and eyes me skeptically.
8:15 – We eat, she eats. She’s always eating.
8:30 – We watch TV, she lays on the floor and eyeballs me.
8:45 – I go upstairs and she talks to her dad in a hushed voice about “that lady” taking her spot on the couch again.
9:00 – Attempt to sleep.
11:00 – Amber starts with the wind sprints.
12:30 – She’s trying to eat my pillow.
2:00 – She’s rubbing against one of the bedroom doors banging it on the wall.
3:30 – Now would be a good time for her to have a conversation with herself.
4:00 – More eating my pillow in an effort to get me to leave.
4:45 – Wind sprints.
5:30 – Time to wake everyone up, because the Princess is hungry.

FWIW, those turds were still clinging to her ass this morning when I left. I doubt she’ll ever successfully outrun them.

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