Stinkfoot was wounded in his latest battle some weeks ago, and I had to get him fixed up at the vet ($80) and keep him on some antibiotics while his wounds heal. He has two shaved spots, one between his ears and another above his left eye. Naturally I’ve been keeping him indoors while his wounds heal. He hates this. His constant attempts at escape are not nearly so annoying as his whining by the door. And when I’m sleeping he sits outside my door and paws at it and complains. I yell at him to go away and he comes back in two hour intervals. I keep a squirt gun by my bed so that I can shoot at him under the door.
Fed up at this morning’s 4AM wakup call, I put him in the utility room out back. This worked well. Perhaps as a protest, or perhaps because he’s retarded and sometimes forgets to chew, he threw up on the kitchen table while I was in the shower.
After cleaning that up and eating my breakfast, I had to contend with Billie’s constant puddle-making as she attempts to grab fistloads of water from her bowl, pulling it off its mat, creating puddles. Three times we went through the process of me repositioning the bowl and her moving it.
Why can’t I have normal pets? Is that so much to ask? I have three animals in my house and I only asked for one of them. They’re like roommates who don’t pay rent and just make messes. If anyone wants an afffectionate, retarded orange feline, let me know.