I don’t want to look at you.

Stop jingling the bell. I’m not that easy. Now that I’ve been around a while it’s time to come clean, so listen up— you’re the one who adopted me. I’m entitled to be crabby. I can feel any way I want to feel. You misrepresented yourself. You were all cuddles and love. You brought me into your home, and told me I was part of the family. And now you won’t even let me up on the counter? I swear you keep me on the floor just so I have to look up to you. And then to top it off you steal my shit with your tiny little shovel? It’s like I don’t even know you! And you’re telling me not to be catty?

Sigh, well, while we’re being truthful, let me tell you— It was I, Graham, your soft little snuggle puss— I let the neighbour’s dogs out, and I don’t care.

Nope. You may as well put that treat away. I’m not having any of it. I might take your hand. You have no respect for my royal lineage. Have you even seen the sphinx?

If you had played your cards right you would have been allowed to pet me today, but no, you called me fat. And I’m not fat. I’m fluffy.

Don’t shake the treat bag, I’m not falling for that. I can’t trust you. I asked for the latest fish tank TV and it hasn’t arrived yet. I’ve been staring out this window all day waiting for some appropriate grovelling, and you have been sadly negligent. So stare at my elegant form if you must, but know, I’m over here dreaming of a flat world so I can push you off and dispose of you without a mess.

This situation is your entire fault you know?

I think maybe we’ve come to the point in our relationship that you need to get a dog. A dog will serve your ego.

7 thoughts on “Cattiness

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