Nobody is perfect, and neither are our cats. While some of their stereotypically feline misbehavior is cute or understandable (wanting to be fed before the alarm rings in the morning comes to mind) other things they do are downright deviant.
Here are five reasons my cats’ bad behavior should land them in therapy — or prison.
If I’m watching television, she needs to be in my lap. If I’m eating, she needs to be in my lap. If I’m going to the bathroom, she needs to be in my lap. If I’m typing on the computer, she needs to be in my lap. If I’m brushing my teeth, she needs to be in my lap — but she’ll settle for being held.
Needless to say, my calico girl struggles with codependency. She needs therapy to learn how to form her own identity and boost her self-esteem. She can’t keep relying on other people (read: me) for her happiness. She has to learn to find what she needs within herself.
Talking about my cat used to feel like defending an abusive spouse: “He didn’t mean it. He only did it because I walked by at the wrong time. It was my fault.” I had this conversation a lot. Naturally people inquired about the bruises and puncture wounds on my calves, which were the consequence of Bubba getting in “one of his moods” and attacking me at random.
Needless to say, if Bubba were a human, he would definitely be in prison for aggravated assault. Lucky for him, he’s a cat with the cutest brick-red nose and a face that prevents anyone from staying mad at him for long.
Seriously, what’s up with the whole bathroom thing? What I do in there does not demand an audience, yet it attracts one — a cute, furry one with perky eyelashes and pink tongues and belly floof, but an unwelcome one nonetheless. Oh, what the hell, I’ll just put it out there: I don’t care what species you are, I don’t want you to watch me while I’m pooping.
The worst part: I feel like cats can dish it out, but they sure can’t take it. Have you ever tried staring at your cat while she’s using the litter box? I firmly believe that my cats don’t appreciate this; in fact, Phoenix actually looks embarrassed when I won’t leave her to do her business in peace. So they’re perverts and hypocrites, and they should obviously be in therapy.
I just spent $50 on new sheets with an actual thread count. Almost as though she was plotting to ruin my special treat, Phoenix barfed on my bed this afternoon. It soaked through the comforter and stained my new sheets and even leaked into the mattress.
Why did she do this? Because the cat is a glutton. If you put food in front of her, she will eat it as quickly as she can. Then she’ll push Bubba out of the way and steal his. Then she’ll realize she’s had too much and barf on my bed, or the windowsill, or the rug. Damn cat needs a therapist — maybe a hypnotist.
Whether it’s socks, underwear, or an unattended bowl of yogurt, both of my cats have no qualms about taking what does not belong to them. While there’s something appealing about a life philosophy that includes seeing what you want and grabbing it, in many cases this is, unfortunately, illegal. If it weren’t, I would have free coffee every day, as well as a new car and several people’s wallets. Therefore, my cats belong in prison.
About Angela: This not-crazy-at-all cat lady loves to lint-roll her favorite dress and go out dancing. She also frequents the gym, the vegan coffee joint, and the warm patch of sunlight on the living room floor. She enjoys a good cat rescue story about kindness and decency overcoming the odds, and she’s an enthusiastic recipient of headbutts and purrs from her two cats, Bubba Lee Kinsey and Phoenix.
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