Friday, November 16, 2012

Staring Into the Eye of Darkness

I have cats.  There, I said it.  I like dogs just fine, but I am a cat person.  I daresay that, given the resources and space, I'd be a crazy cat man.  One thing I've always had in my head as something to do when I hit the Ultra Bucks, or whatever lotto jackpot, is to open a cat sanctuary.  Open to all unwanted cats, with acres of land, veterinarians, etc.  A giant no-kill shelter, but more like a farm for cats.  I'd have the run of the place, zipping around in a little golf cart, visiting the cats and hittin' a fatty.  I'd do some work around the place, but as a multimillionaire, I have employees who do the real work.

Cats looooove being scratched.  Given their physical limitations, cats can't really lick or scratch much of their spine, from their head down to the tail, and they seem to love that.  In particular, Lisa (on the left) loves it when I scratch her back right at the base of the tail.  It's kinda gross and creepy, because she starts to bite the air and get a weird spacey look in her eyes when I do it.  I've always assumed that, nasty as it was, she must be getting some kind of sexual thrill out of it..

Well, today was the last straw.  I was on the couch, looking out the staring window, just watching cars blow through the stop sign on the corner, when Lisa came up to me and started making her weird little bird-peeping calls that mean she wants attention.  So I let her up on to the arm of the couch and start scratching her head and back.  When I got to the base of her tail and scratched her back there, I happened to glance up, and her whole anus was puckered out like she was about to blow me a kiss. It was utterly fucking repulsive, all white and red, like a beached jellyfish.  I made a kind of gargling sound, and as I stopped scratching, it deflated to normal starfish-size.

Not ever again, Cheech.

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