Dear Mr. Cat,
That better not be the sound of our bathroom cabinet opening up that I hear. Let’s see, your mother is at work, and I’m not in the bathroom right now - after all, I certainly don’t want to miss a second of this week’s episode of Man v. Food, now do I? I mean, is it really possible for Adam Richman to eat 15 dozen oysters in one sitting? THESE ARE IMPORTANT THINGS THAT THE TV PEOPLE TELL ME WE NEED TO KNOW, MR. CAT.
Wait, where did you go? Oh, right - the bathroom. I mean, I’m here, your mother’s at work, and the dog is asleep on the couch after an exhausting day of barking at random light switches or whatever on God’s green Earth she does while we’re gone. YES, I am well aware that she eats your poops and that it’s incredibly disgusting, but we’re not talking about her problems. Yet. We’re focusing more on your problems at the moment.
Like the fact that you’re talking to me from inside the bathroom cabinet. You learned how to open the door, which I’ll admit is impressive for something that can’t figure out that you’re supposed to poop in one of the FOUR LITTER BOXES that we leave out for you. But now you’re stuck in there, in the dark, pipe-filled space that you thought would be SO interesting. And, of course, the door shut behind you so now you have no idea how to get out. Meow all you want, bricks-for-brains, but the door is not voice-activated, so good luck with that.
I mean, really – this shouldn’t be all that embarrassing, but let’s remember that I just rescued you from that very same Wicked Cave of Baa-Thrum TEN MINUTES AGO. Not to mention your constant misadventures elsewhere in the house. Remember last night’s Cat Trek to the Surprisingly Well-Lit Cavern Beneath Kich-Entay-bul? Or the Feline Quest to Discover the Hidden Secrets of Hal-WaeClauz-It? That’s really a misnomer, though, since there are no more secrets there anymore because you go in there EVERY TIME WE OPEN THE DOOR.
Yet, as often as you embark on these adventures, you never remember how to get yourself out of them. I’ll give you a hint, Mr. Cat – WALK. Really, walk in any direction and you’ll be free from the treachery of the house that we brought you into so that you wouldn’t be living on the street like some or hobo or five-years-from-now Perez Hilton. I mean, really – if this is what you do when we’re at home, what is it that you do while we’re gone?
What’s that? You leave your poops by the door so that the dog can eat them? Fantastic – not only do you have the internal compass of a kumquat, but you also have the craftiness and moral compass of a furry little Uruk-hai. There’s a winning combination.