Did I say the cats and I would be friends soon? Let me re-phrase that: we are mortal enemies for all time.
While we were getting ready to come out here, I was considering moving them and their litter box and stuff to the garage, because I'm not supposed to be around them while I'm pregnant. But then, I would just imagine their sweet little kitty faces, and suddenly I'd be flooded with nesting hormones and would banish the thought.
Lucky for me, these are awful, beastly cats.
Well, I should specify. One cat is like...a South American dictator: Lazy and corrupted, waiting around all day for the things he wants, no humane interests, etc.
I like to call him "El Jefe," after Trujillo of the Dominican Republic.
The other, I've decided, is one of his mindless women -- bless her heart she is as dumb as a post -- you know, just sort of along for the ride, looks pretty and doesn't say too much.
On Monday, I decided that they needed to be exiled to the garage. After moving all of their stuff down two flights of townhouse stairs, I went in search of the pair. I found the dumb one very quickly. She didn't really put up a fight, just kept looking at me every 30 minutes or so, freshly surprised.
El Jefe proved much less cooperative. He wouldn't let me get near him, so I had to spook him from one room to the next, shutting doors behind me as I went to cut down his options. Finally, I chased him down the second set of stairs, which ends in an entryway with only two doors: the front door and the door to the garage.
It was like a kitty slasher film.
Jefe started meowing a meow that seriously sounded like he thought I was going to kill him. He reached up and pawed at the doorknob and kept looking frantically back at me as I came down the stairs.
Well, when I opened the door to the garage and threw him in, he turned and bolted out and up the stairs so fast I couldn't shut the door in time. The dumb cat followed him. They both raced up the stairs, but tried to jump through the bars of the kid-gate at the top and got stuck. They were both struggling frantically, but I think the dumb one forgot what was happening, because I had no problem putting her back in the garage. Jefe was determined. Finally, the humane person in me helped him get unstuck, but then he clawed me and bolted, and the whole process started over again.
In the end, however, I was triumphant. The evil kitties are confined to the garage with all their food and poop, and I have since vacuumed every inch of the cat-hair-covered apartment and scrubbed everything with Lysol.
Be assured, they are safe, well-fed, and comfy on their stupid cat beds. I don't abuse animals, I just don't allow them to abuse me!
2 comments:
Great story! I'm not a big fan of cats either!
you are awesome Megan. You're place there looks great.
we just sent you a post card from Bar Harbor. We sent one to Grandma and Grandpa Shumway too. The first thing Charlie wanted to say on his postcard to them was "you are lucky because you live by Megan and Reed and you can see them." Boy, my kids are IN LOVE with you.
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