The Inner Life of an Indoor Cat

My roommate’s cat is so annoying. I mean, I’m also cat, but I’m more like a person. I have a personality. I can hold up my end of a conversation. When I look at myself in the mirror I think, “There’s a cat of substance. There’s a cat who has ideas.” You know?

This other cat is so dumb. She’s always wearing this ridiculous fluffy fur. Like, where did you get that? Topshop? She’d probably say something stupid like, “No, I got it Furr-ever 21.” Actually, that’s pretty good. She’d never come up with a good pun like that.

Sometimes I wake up from a nap on the loveseat and I forget she’s there and it’s the best 30 seconds of my life. Then I hear her dumb voice echoing from the bathroom, meowing at the fish.

Yes, that’s right. My roommate has to keep the fish in the bathroom because the high windowsill in there is the only place in this whole apartment that dumb cat can’t get to. Before that we kept it in the bedroom but stupid dumdum would wake us up in the middle of the night tapping on the tank. I don’t think she even wanted to eat the fish. I think she wanted it to be her friend. Even a stupid fish doesn’t want to be your friend dummy.

This is my life. Every. Stinking. Day. You know, I went to college. Well, I moved in with my roommate when she was in college. I’ve taken naps on top of all the classics. Dickens. Melville. Proust. I once pushed War and Peace off the dining room table.

The most literary thing this dummy’s ever done is throw up a furball on the November issue of Southern Living. Everybody knows that’s the one with all the best recipes. Way to ruin Thanksgiving, idiot.

I’ve tried everything to get rid of her. For a while I would swat and hiss at her while she was trying to eat, hoping she’d eventually starve to death. But it was taking forever. I had to cut my napping down to 20 hours a day. Even starving a dumdum isn’t worth that amount of effort.

Now, I mainly focus on letting my roommate know how much I hate that idiot in messages I write by walking across her computer keyboard.

I have some real influence around here, so I’m optimistic she’ll listen to me on this one. Grain-free cat food, that was me. We used to have bathmats. It only took a handful of well-placed bathroom breaks for me to nip that in the bud. You might even say I catnipped it in the bud. See? Genius.

Deep down, I think she knows I’m right. Having that other cat around just makes her life harder. That dummy’s never worked a day in her life. She sheds everywhere. She poops in a box for chrissake.

I’m also working on telepathic communication, mainly by staring at my roommate while she’s trying to sleep.

So you see, I’m not the kind of person to be easily discouraged. I’ll get that idiot one way or another. Right after this nap.

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