Monday, October 1, 2012

Ode To a Fur Bastard

Oh my dearest Monkey, you are a (big, 12 lb) little bastard.  Literally.  No one knows who your mommy or daddy really are.  But I digress.

Do your real momma a favor and stop hurting yourself, okily dokily?  You coming home with a gash on your neck does not make for a fun Sunday.  I am thankful that you weren't bleeding profusely and that your stupidity accident didn't cost me a trip to the emergency vet.  And I am thankful that today, at the regular vet, you cost me less than $100.

HOWEVER, you are making me insane.  I promise you, dear Monkey, that I would LOVE to let you outside.  You scratching at my screen door to go out, or incessant crying to get your point across are just as annoying as you're trying to make them.  I'm sorry that you don't want to use your litter box, but guess what?  You get to.  You're NOT GOING OUTSIDE for another couple of days. 

So stop crying.

And stop scratching at the screen door.

And stop attacking my feet when I walk by just because you're pissed that the vet shaved your neck (hahahahaha...you got shaved!).

The Monk...right before he attacked Diesl...


And start being smart when you're outside.  No more fighting (if that's what this hole in your neck is from).  And no more catching your body parts on fences or other sharp objects (if that is what this is from).

Think Smart Be Smart, cat. 

That is all.

Have an awesome day!
Ang

1 comment:

Girls Love Fried Pickles said...

it's the beast! but sure is cute beast.