Thwarted Again

I love my cat, Squeaks. He is the most dog-like cat I’ve ever owned. He’ll play fetch with his stuffed Chewbacca mouse, “Chewy Mouse,” and he greets me at the door every time I come home. Granted, his body splaying across the doorway probably looks like he’s being held captive against his will to those passing by, but I know the truth. He’s been eagerly awaiting my arrival home so he can remind me that it’s time to feed him. It is always time to feed him. He will also lay behind my head on the back of the sofa yowling and poking me in the neck and shoulders with his claws as added incentive to do his bidding. I’ll turn to glower at him, and he’ll give me the sweetest, most endearing look ever, before taking a loving swipe at my nose. At least one of us thinks his torture techniques are highly effective and persuasive for now. He’s probably going to escalate to pulling out my toenails any day now.

He’s also a huge busybody, however, so almost always when I do put food down and then wander off to go about my business, he abandons his food, because it’s all too enticing figuring out what the heck I’m up to in the other room. Even when he’s exhausted and in the middle of a serious catnap, I’ll slip off, seemingly undetected, only to look up and see that he has begrudgingly followed me into the kitchen or bathroom. He makes this big dramatic show of yawning as if he just can’t believe he had to get up to watch me put on the tea kettle. Like it’s his job or something. Let me tell you, I would much prefer he cleaned the litter box once in awhile or took out the trash, lazy bastard cat.

Most irking of all, however, is his talent for making things disappear. He’s effectively removed almost all of the magnets from the refrigerator, and I can’t for the life of me figure out where he’s stashed them. His little arms are only a few inches long – how far could he possibly shove them under the refrigerator that I can’t reach them? Also, this week marks the second time he has removed his collar and deposited it somewhere I cannot fathom, even though the apartment only consists of four freaking rooms. Initially, I will admit, I think it’s hilarious whenever he does this. I gleefully shriek, “you’re naked! Where is your collar!!??” He’s not fazed by my overreaction anymore.

Two days later and hours spent searching, however, and the cuteness of it all wears off. I have found myself standing on the kitchen counters so I can peer onto the upper cabinets and let me tell you, I am going to be peeved the day it caves under my body weight. I have looked under every piece of furniture I own. What the hell could he have done with it?

Last time it took me a month to find it when he stashed it this well. It is going to be a very long month.

I will claw your eyeballs out!

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