There is a cat that lives in my house. It’s not my cat because I didn’t bring it in. To this day, I’m still trying to figure out its gender. My friend, who has two or three cats of her own, says it is a female cat. She knew this because she picked it up , stared at the its ass for a few seconds and say “Yup, she’s a girl!” I didn’t know you can tell just by staring at it’s ass. I wasn’t going to do the same to verify if she’s right, so I took her word for it.
My little brother assumed it was a male cat and decided to name it Mickey. Of course, she has nothing to back up his assumption but he’s only ten so I’m not going to bother arguing with a ten year old.
Last night I came home rather late. Once I’m through the door, there are stairs going up to the living and down to the basement. My room is in the basement so I have to go down. But before I do, I went to the main floor because I had to use the washroom, I had a lot to drink. It’s that time of year where your pee smells like coffee.
So I start up the stairs but by the time I get to the fifth or sixth step, I tripped over something. The lights weren’t on because everyone was sleeping and I usually do an okay job when it comes to walking in the dark. Only this time, someone decided to wait for me on the steps. I was going up the stairs rather quickly because I had to go so I stepped on the cat with a lot of force. I assume it was the cat because I felt something squishy. I turned on the lights to see if maybe I stepped on a shoe or something but there was nothing on the stairs, it was clear. I walked into the kitchen and there it was, stretching and scratching the cupboard. I stared at it and swore at it a few times, but it didn’t care. It just walked away. I helped it get to its destination by kicking it in the ass.
There are a few times when it comes into my room and waunders around and then leaves. Sometimes it comes in, sets by my feet and stares at me. Usually I ignore it because I’m business working on the computer. But sometimes I turn and look and as soon as I do, it meows.
Me: I don’t speak feline so why don’t you learn English and tell me what you want!
Me: Bugger off!
After the third meow I usually kick it and tell it to go away. Sometimes it leaves but usually it goes into my closet and hides there until I leave the house. And when I leave, it probably sleeps on my bed because I’m finding hair all over my jackets. Maybe I won’t kill it after all. Maybe I should just shave it.