Ah, spring break. The thought conjures up images of college students guzzling cheap beer, lounging on the beach, and looking for hookups. The whole scene is complete chaos, and full of hangovers and regrets … well, not a whole lot of regrets.
If cats were to participate in this time-honored week of party-hearty, they’d probably mimic some of the human spring-break stereotypes. Here are six such party animals.
“I think somebody slipped something into my Fancy Feast because your whiskers look like they’re melting, dude. Where am I, and why is that Komodo dragon using the litter box? Has it already been an hour? It’s only been five minutes? Whoa, no way. My claws are turning into talons. Am I an owl dreaming of being a cat, or a cat dreaming of being an owl? Who am I? Did I just say ‘hoo?’ I’m an owl, dude. An owl.”
“Um, I have no recollection of going to bed with this cat. Who is she? I’m so embarrassed — I don’t even remember her name. The last thing I remember is rolling around in catnip with all these hotties and then racing up and down the stairs. I hope she doesn’t think I’m her boyfriend now. What was her name? Fluffy? Floofy? It starts with an “F,” I’m sure of it. Farty? Yes, that’s it. Farty. Well, maybe not. Okay, be cool. Maybe tell her you have to use the litter box and then sneak out through the back window.”
“Ah, lounging on the sand is my favorite part of spring break. I love sinking my claws into its cool graininess and digging holes. The best part is I don’t have to go anywhere when I need to relieve myself. Who needs a tropical beach? This is the life. I could lie here all day. I love spring break.”
“They told me this would be fun. They said, ‘Corky, you gotta stop chasing that red dot and come with us on spring break. There are so many hot lady cats and parties everywhere.’ Well, so far no lady cats have shown an interest in me, and here I sit in the corner of a party where everyone is wasted and chirping at seagulls that fly by the window. All I want to do is sleep, but this giant tabby keeps rolling on top of me. This is the worst. I miss my red dot.”
“Did somebody say the cops are here? Quick, help me flush this catnip! Harold, I told you to stop howling and scratching the walls! This is not cool, man. I spent all of last week drying this primo nip and now it’s all a waste! Wait a minute. Does anyone want one last roll in it? Hurry! I’m in the bathtub! Not you, Harold — go away!”
“Hey, guys … hey, guys … come over here a minute. Come here. Can somebody bring me one of those treats over there? Come here, let me whisper something into your ear. Come, here. Can you bring me a treat? What? I did whisper! I’m sorry. Do you hate me now? I’ll bet you hate me. Don’t hate me. Go get me one of those treats. I can’t get out of this box and I need a snack. Let me tell you a secret. Shhh! I went to the litter box a little while ago and didn’t cover it up. Shhh! Don’t tell anybody, Okay? Hey, come here. Get me one of those treats.”
How would your cat party on spring break? Tell us in the comments!
Read more by Angie Bailey:
About the Author: Angie Bailey is an eternal optimist with an adoration of all things silly. Loves pre-adolescent boy humor, puns, making up parody songs, thinking about cats doing people things and The Smiths. Writes Catladyland, a cat humor blog, Texts from Mittens (originated right here on Catster) and authored whiskerslist: the kitty classifieds, a silly book about cats wheeling and dealing online. Partner in a production company and writes and acts in comedy web series that features sketches and mockumentaries. Mother to two humans and three cats, all of which want her to make them food.