Last week, I left for work about 4:30 in the morning. and returned to my house, later that day, around 4 p.m.
My cat, Rachel, didn’t move the whole day. Same spot. Same damn spot. She had climbed in bed with me at 9 the night before.
That means for nearly 17 hours, she didn’t move. Not to eat. Not to potty, nothing.
So I wondered, like most pet owners do, what exactly our furry buddies do during the day.
Now, I also have a dog, named Lillie, who is half golden/half lab and fully nuts. She barks at the wind. Her mom was 100% Golden Retriever and her dad was a traveling salesman.
Anyhoo, she doesn’t trouble me or fascinate me the way the damn cat does.
I then wondered, if my cat had a blog, what would she write?
Well, here it is.
The Fat Man just got up and he farts all night long. Dear God, and he bitches about my litter box? What a joke. Watching his fat ass stumble into the shower is one of the highlights of my life.
Let’s go check the closet door again. I swear someone is in there. I shall stare at it for 10 minutes.
Yay, Fat Man is out the door with a gallon of cologne on. If he dies of a heart attack in the front yard, no one will eat him. I am going to lay down. Making fun of the Fat Man wears my ass out.
Whoa, whoa. What happened?? I laid down for about 10 minutes and now 5 hours later, I am getting up. Worn out. Sh*t, here comes that dumbass dog. Cue sniffing my ass in 3, 2, and there it is. Good God, what a joke. I am hungry, lets see what we got around here…
Eating and then pooping. Jesus, I have turned into the Fat Man. When I get to the point where I wear sandals instead of tennis shoes because I am too fat to bend over, shoot me in the face.
I swear I was going to lay down for about 5 mins, not two hours. Completely exhausted. Yawn!! OK, I feel better…lets go check out this string on the floor.
Damn dog barking at the mailman. I was thisclose to taking a damn nap.
FAT MAN ALERT….FAT MAN ALERT……I will go walk between his legs, he will pat me, I will show him my belly and, JESUS! he showed me his…..and yet, when I scratch on the furniture or bite his feet, he gets mad at me? Unreal…
Just went for a walk. It is nice out. Really nice. Now I have to figure out a way to hide this bird I just killed. Got it, let me take it upstairs and show the Fat Man what I can do and it will be a subtle message to him of if you don’t stop bugging me, this is YOU!
YEH, I AM THE BAD GUY?? ME? I JUST SLAUGHTERED A BIRD TO MAKE YOU HAPPY AND YOU RIP ME?? THIS IS COMPLETE BULLSH*T!! I am going back outside but that damn pillow likes mighty comfy. Mighty
Wow, only meant to lay down for about 15 minutes, not 9 hours. I can see the Fat Man has settled in for the night, complete with non stop farting. I might as well just keep on slee…………………………………….
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