The Cats Move

1.

“He peed on my Senior picture?” Thea’s delighted giggle fills the still empty living room of The Mansion.
“You think it’s funny?” I ask.
“Yeah.....” She laughs again, this time shaking her head. “Don’t you?”
“No, I fail to see the Amusement Factor. I don’t want him peeing in my new house. Goddamn stupid cat!”
She grins, then shrugs.
“Of all the things he coulda chosen to pee on though, it does make you wonder....” I muse.
“What?”
“Well, it’s like he’s letting me know that you’re not welcome. Interloper. Who are you to come here to his new home only 4 days after he’s moved in?"
“Yeah, it is a little weird,” she agrees, then shrugs again, “Well, at least he didn’t pee on me!”
Now I laugh, “Yeah, at least he didn’t do That!”

2.

“Oh My God!” My soon to be ex-landlady exclaims, “She scratched you!”
I let loose the struggling tortoiseshell who bolts out of the yard and over the fence. “Damn,” I mutter to myself, feeling the blood on my cheek.
“Are you okay?” E is staring at my cheek, real concern all over her face.
“Yeah,” I mutter, eying the blood on the back of my hand. “It was entirely my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to pick her up just now. There was too much going on.” (I’d had my hands full of cleaning supplies for the cottage; E’s husband was watering next to us) “It’s just that I wanted to get her in the box so I could take her over to the new place, but guess I’ll have to wait.”
E stares at me for a moment, then nods, “Yes, I guess she didn’t want to leave yet.”

3.

“I waited till after you’d had your coffee to tell you this,” Ian eyes me, tentative.
“What?” I demand, instantly stressed out.
“Well...” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I didn’t want to tell you this but.....”
“Tell me what for Chrissakes?!”
“You know that box you had to the side of your desk....”
“Yeah,” I nod. “I was saving it for you thinking you might want it back.”
Ian shakes his head, “Not anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Pablo peed on it and.....”
“Shit!” I exclaim, immediately beyond pissed off. Pun intended. “I can’t believe it. That goddamn cat! I hate that cat! I’m gonna take him to the pound. I can’t have him peeing all over my new place!”
Ian shakes his head, eying me sympathetically, “I know. It’s bad. But he’s an Old Man. He doesn’t have much longer and.....”
”I don’t care!” I cry, stomping into the kitchen to retrieve the pee clean-up substances. “Where was it? Can you show me?”
And he does. And I spray it with anti pee pheromones that don’t work for shit.

Goddamn Cat.

What the hell am I gonna do? Here I’ve spent all this time and money getting into this new place only to have the stupid cat start peeing all over it.

I am so sick of it. But yet, I know that Ian’s right. Pablo is an Old Man, and yeah, probably doesn’t have that much time left. Though I recall mentioning to Thea how I couldn’t believe Pablo has survived all these years and her answer was “Of course. He’s such a Bad Cat. He’ll probably live forever.”

And to be honest, isn’t that what I really want? For him to live forever? Of course he won’t. But when he does go, I know I’ll be devastated. Don’t ask me why.

He is the bane of my existence.

But I guess we all need some cross to bear, right? I just wish mine didn’t involve so much goddamn cat pee.