I was planning on posting about how great my cat is today… About the little patch of short fur on his nose, between his eyes. His cute little paws… His giant radar ears… His cute little Meow… The fact that he sleeps with me every night… Hell, I was even going to talk in great length about how cute he is when he is going to the bathroom in his penthouse of a litter box.
But the little shit sneak attacked my leg while I was not looking last night… And then had the gall to puke all over the place… So instead, this will be a realistic expose’ on the trials and tribulations of living with a moody orange cat named Jack.
Why does he attack me?… I will tell you. Once upon a time there lived a white cat named Hook… Hook lived in the wild back country of eastern Australia. He hunted daily for food, spilling any amount of blood, just for the thrill of the kill and the dominance he became addicted to. No amount of fresh meat was enough to satisfy his craving. No amount of blood was enough to fill the void of lovelessness in his heart. Hook was indeed, the cock of the walk and the master of his domain, not caring who he had to dismember on his way to glory.
One day, while in a fit of rage… While destroying a large kangaroo (his favorite food), Hook decided that there had to be more killing he could do, more carnage to be had… He knew he could cause more pain. Hook went on a killing spree that is still talked about even today by the wild aborigines. There was not a living thing that was safe from his scorn, not a plant to beautiful, not an animal to large… Everything died…
As blood filled the country side a vast depression fell upon Hook’s surroundings… Hook’s world turned balck, white… and blood RED. The more Hook killed, the more the loneliness that encompassed him began to grow. The one and only thing that Hook could depend on in his life was the instant and total gratification of the kill. It is what fueled him and made him breath. You see, he had been killing for so long, he knew no other way, that was just who he was. A murderous killer.
When Hook completed killing EVERYTHING on the continent of Australia, he hopped a boat to the eastern US seaboard. After killing the captain and crew, he killed his way to the middle of the country. One day, while in deep sleep, a demon appeared to him in his dreams. “You are my most loyal companion and efficient killer,” the demon said deeply… After trying to kill and eat the demon, Hook said “I work alone… I bet you taste like chicken.” After forty days and forty nights of struggle, the demon said, “You are not worthy of doing my bidding, your killing soul will go to another,” and the demon disappeared (incidentally, a young presidential candidate with the initials G.W.B. emerged from the primaries the next day).
Hook awoke, feeling his loneliness fade. He cleaned his white, blood stained fur as best he could, resulting in a shade of orange. Vastly overweight, but rejuvenated, Hook checked himself into an animal rehabilitation clinic in St. Louis, changed his name to Jack, and began to learn how to LOVE.
This is where I come into the picture… You see, in a past life, Jack was in love with my wife… So he hates me. I guess I don’t blame him, but I am forced to sleep with one eye wide open, because I know it is just a matter of time…