A couple of weeks ago, we posted Pancake the cat’s report card. It turns out he needs a little private tutelage to hone his hiding skills. Well, turnabout is fair play, and my three cats decided it’s high time I received a performance evaluation.
Yesterday we gathered around the “conference” room, which looks a lot like my bed, and they shared their candid feedback of my performance. The review lasted about an hour longer than expected, because Saffy kept falling asleep and Cosmo’s train of thought was frequently interrupted by an overwhelming need to lick his behind.
Here are their supporting comments that accompanied the review’s ratings:
Comments: How hard is it to read a clock? Seriously. You performance is mediocre at best in this area. When you’re fed only twice a day, 10 minutes feels like 10 hours. You don’t even seem to care. At night we see you laughing on the phone or typing on that machine that holds our pictures (which got there without our permission, by the way). We start whining and pacing a full hour before mealtime so you have plenty of notice.
And on the weekends? Please explain what “sleeping in” means, because you keep throwing that phrase around and it means absolutely nothing to us. Maybe start setting an alarm.
Comments: You are definitely enthusiastic, but sometimes you take the whole thing a little too far. Yes, we totally get that you want to spend time with us, but how many angry snuggles do you need to experience before you give us our space? We love your enthusiasm around mealtime — in fact, we’d like to see more of that. And please note that when you dangle a toy in front of our faces and we ignore you, it’s for a good reason. We want to be left alone. If you’re bored, maybe practice setting your alarm clock.
Comments: You sometimes want us to adapt to your schedule — what gives? When will you start adapting to our ever-changing wants and needs? Just because we wanted to play at noon yesterday doesn’t mean we want to play at noon today. Maybe we want to nap. Maybe we want some treats. You see, if you’d just let us plan your day, you’d score much higher in this area next time around. You do get bonus points for skipping yoga to attend this performance evaluation.
Comments: Yeah, we know we’re family and all, but we still consider ourselves your customers because you serve us. And not all that well, by the way. Some days you are way more customer-focused than others. You know how sometimes you talk about being frustrated because a rude grocery store cashier is ignoring you and having a conversation with a co-worker? Think about that the next time we want treats and you’re “busy” feeding your own face.
Comments: Do we really need 25 nicknames? Sometimes you’re just plain confusing. We have given names and grew used to be addressed as such. Then you started in with a nickname or two, which we can handle. Now we have no idea who you’re addressing when you call, “Stinky!” Seriously, it could be any of us. There’s no lack of communication in our house, that’s for sure, but can you please just choose a nickname and stick with it?
Comments: We’re afraid this area is pretty inconsistent. Sometimes you are very attentive and your attention towards us is blissfully on-target. Other days your selfish nature takes over and you feel the need to leave the house to fulfill your own personal desires, which you label as “fun.” Fun for whom? Not us. Again, if you’d just stay home, this would not be an issue. Your productivity plummets the minute you start focusing on yourself. I know it’s difficult because humans are inherently self-centered, but we think if you try harder, you’ll begin to more consistently meet our expectations.
About the Author: Angie Bailey is a weird girl with freckles and giant smile who wants everyone to be her friend. Loves pre-adolescent boy humor, puns, making up parody songs, and thinking about cats doing people things. Wrote a ridiculous humor book about cats wheeling and dealing online. Partner in a production company and writes and acts in comedy web series that may or may not offend people. Mother to two humans and three cats, all of which want her to make them food.
Read more by Angie Bailey: