This is a letter we found sitting on the kitchen table when we returned home from our trip. It smelled vaguely of tuna and Brut.
Dear Nice-Smelling One,
You are not here. It took me 3 or 4 nights to realize this. I try not to concern myself terribly with the affairs of the bipeds. But eventually, you absence became obvious. Your bed stopped smelling like you. Distantly, the smell was still there, but it was fading. I peed and pooped there in order to fill the scent void.
After the realization of the bed scent, I started paying closer attention. I noticed it was quiet. No screaming or anything. Also, I had not been chased in many days.
I've dreamed of the bipeds leaving before. Mostly, I think about the Tall, Dumb-Looking One and The Small Ones Who Make Too Much Noise leaving. In my dreams, you stay. As I say, you smell nice. And you scoop my litter promptly.
I pooped on the small ones' beds too.
Somewhere around Day Six I realized that Someone had been filling my food bowl. Then, I noticed a strange biped coming in and out, opening windows, turning on lights, filling my bowl. He smelled Very Bad and dressed in trailer park fur. When he came, I hid for many hours, despite his calling of "Kitty kitty kitty..."
If you do return, I have prepared a feast to welcome you home: a big, juicy mouse awaits you on your bed (beside the pee and poo).
Yours in Fur,
Joan the Cat
5 comments:
Lucky you. You get gifts. We get attitude.
What a lovely note to come home to...lucky you! And your wife is so lucky to be so loved by Joan! If only I had a cat....
Our train came into Truro, which is about a 3-4 hour drive from our house (depending on screaming). It dropped us off after three o'clock, which, after getting bags and running around, didn't put us on the road until after four. By five, all three kids were screaming their heads off with fatigue, so we decided to spend the night in a hotel in Antigonish.
It was the right decision for several reasons: not least of which, how annoying it would have been to arrive home after that horrible ride to find all of our beds soiled. As it was, we arrived home the next morning, made the discovery, and still had everything smelling like a laundry line by bedtime.
Yes. Get a cat.
Good thing we left the kids attended by their grandparents while we are away. Just imagine what gifts they might have left in our beds otherwise...
Our dear 14-year-old cat Maceo, has been pooping just outside his litter box since the day we brought Alexandra home from the hospital - three years ago.
Oh yeah, and when bored, he pees on MY clothes...never Michael's.
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