in This time it's personal

The cat in the flat

As domesticated animal companions, cats require very little attention, especially when compared to a few socially-inept, self-absorbed, and sorry-ass bums I have unfortunately encountered these past few months.
Besides daily feeding, felines only need annual rabies shots, the occasional bath, and regular cleaning of their litter boxes.
Which is not the case at all with other supposedly sentient but nevertheless irritating human beings.
Unlike regular, well-adjusted felines, these vexing, intolerable entities demand more than just food and shelter but also inordinate amounts of patience and sympathy than what is generally required under the law and the Geneva convention.
As a result, these so-called “people” deplete my goodwill and reduce whatever is left of my Christian charity.
No wonder many individuals — myself included — prefer felines over their fellow human beings, given half the chance.
Take the overweight grey and white cat we keep at our apartment.
Although aloof, independent, and sometimes even insensitive by nature, the five-year old cat we adopted five years ago only becomes demanding and noisy when he runs out of dry food.
However, once his bowl is refilled — done twice a day max — he is a bother to no one, preferring to pursue his worry-free indoor existence under the bed, on the stairs, in the bathroom, or ensconced inside a special square basin in our bedroom.
Originally a stray cat living off the cold, inhospitable streets of Western Pennsylvania, our British shorthair cat is now living the life of luxury, although in another country with only one timezone, two seasons, and limited choices for wet cat food.
But during the past month, his charmed life was sorely interrupted.
Since his skin had developed a fungus, he had to be given a bath twice a week using a special shampoo. It was an experience that my cat and I rarely looked forward to.
Given felines’ legendary aversion to water, our cat struggled to escape from the bathroom while I did my best to keep him in it.
Despite this discomfort, I don’t think he’s ever going to complain, especially now that his skin condition is improving.
With my wife and I always at his disposal and a loving vet on call 24/7, the cat previously known as Alex is, without a doubt, living it up.
Although he appears to miss his scratching post, he nevertheless manages to stretch his limbs using our chaise lounge upstairs and our couch downstairs, ruining our precious and not exactly inexpensive furniture.
But then again, that is the price we pay for keeping a cat inside our apartment and ensuring that the rats are kept out. Bet you can’t do that with a bum.

A slightly different version of this piece was posted two years and a month ago at a separate website. Picture of fat feline taken early this year.

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  1. Siempre. It’s that time of year when I question my agnosticism. :) Thanks for reading, my friend. And for that. You’ll get a link to your blog as soon as I find it. :)

  2. still agnostic? do you recall the first word you uttered during the earthquake of 1990 when you were somewhere along kennon road?