The other day, our cat, Odessa said to me, “If you ‘accidentally’ step on my tail ONE MORE TIME, you’ll be sorry every day for the rest of your life.” I said, “That’s a skosh extreme Odessa, and may I remind you that it’s really a moot point, because I hold the power in this dynamic. I feed you, and I can starve you to death at any given opportunity, so BACK OFF!” She ate the ivy plant in the bathroom that evening to remind me that she can feed herself.
I overheard Odessa talking to our ancient cat, Dammit, about me last week, and it wasn’t pretty. Something about me not having a clue about pets, relationships or who the Bachelorette is going to choose. It hurt my feelings, yet I still coo to my cats, telling them that they are just the cutest, smartest, bestest little kitty kats in this whole wide world, yes they are. I thought Dammit would ‘stand up for me’ when Odessa complained, but instead, she questioned AGAIN why I named her Dammit. Du’uh, that name sounded better to me than Whiskers or Peaches or Suzanne.
When Odessa tries to snuggle next to me on the bed during the night, here is our verbal exchange:
Odessa: I am going to curl up next to you now, so don’t turn over without telling me first.
KK: Oh, no you’re not. It’s bad enough having my nightly hot flashes, but with you on me, it’s beyond uncomfortable.
Odessa: Tough shit. Here I come.
KK: Get AWAY!
Odessa: No, here I come again.
KK: I’m going to kick you off the bed!
Odessa: You’d better not! Remember how I punished you the last time you did that. Did you ever find the one bedroom slipper that went with the other?
KK: NO.
Odessa: I rest my case.
KK: You are INSUFFERABLE, and I HATE YOU.
Odessa: You brought me home years ago, picturing me cold, wet, and starving out on the street. You should be ashamed of yourself for being so selfish.
