Cats are Manipulative

The minute I arrived home from a road trip last night, something decided that our residence was its new residence. A furry ball of tabby fluff had followed my flattie home from the netball courts and the first thing I see as we pull our hangover arses into the driveway is a grinning flattie cradling an equally as grinning moggy.

It secretly threw me one of those evil ‘eheheh, you’re stuck with me now glances’, but gave my other flattie one of those butter wouldn’t melt puppy dog eyes looks on a kitty. Pure freakin’ fur ball chucking sin had come knocking and my flatties had let the door open.

Ironically, I had moved into Kat’s old room the previous week. One Kat out, another cat in. I’m feeling over-felinated and would much prefer to have Kat mark 1 make a comeback and kick new cat to the kerb.

So this new cat (who has since been named Pussy), charmed the pants off the flatties by traipsing in, checking out the place and by apparently looking cute. It has taken turns to sit at the table like its part of the family, clamber onto beds, stretch out over the floor and playfully paw at things. And even though I specifically told it not to, it came near me, jumped on my lap and curled up.

I stood up, letting it roll off. Flattie took pity and fed it milk. I continued to sneer at it in a not so secret way. Thank god it wasn’t allowed to stay the night because my flattie had grown a voice of reason and said that we “don’t know its pissing routine.”

This morning I was watching TV online when a constant mew kept plugging away in the background. It wasn’t some weird soundtrack but that damn Pussy. I went to the front door and opened it just as it was about to knock. I shook my head. The bloody fleabag had come back and was trying to look cuter than ever.

“Guess who’s at the door….. The cat!”

After a few ha ha ha’s, the cat was back trying to take over the flat. I poured cereal into the bowl and it looked up at me with wistful eyes. I had something it wanted and I wasn’t prepared to share. Just like a mean older sibling playing with awesome toy in an awesome way.

After interrupting breakfast and not letting me go to my bedroom by laying in front of the doorway, it was kicked out as the flattie left for work. I pretended to throw it over the fence as she reversed, but ended up gently tossing the cat aside and running inside to cat-free safety carefully slamming the door behind me. Surely this was a clear message to bugger off.

I was wrong. Every time Pussy heard me make a noise inside, it would let it out a cry for help. It was my little Big Bad Wolf. When I thought the coast was clear, I went and collected the mail. It spotted me from its ninja hiding place and ran up to follow me inside. I ran and slam went the door. I put the rubbish out and had to step over our new ‘cat mat’. I even drove away and came home only to be greeted by a sly Pussy sauntering towards me and rubbing up against my leg. This feline had read the book of tricks and was trying every one of them.

Right now it is currently curled up on the front door step subconsciously sending befriend me messages via ESP. I can’t relax, because I am sure it will turn up in the window swinging a ticking watch back and forth in front of me.

They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer, but I am really not prepared to be sucked into becoming the next cat lap. Because I might just accidently become its friend.

About stuffnjsays

I'm NJ, and my life motto is to maintain happiness and be true to myself. I love to write, travel, laugh out loud, and be awesome! I believe in making my dreams come true, and using my life experiences to help other people. Check out what I'm up to, here:
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