She’s lucky I love her

Dear Diary,

The other morning, I was making the rounds. Given that I’m the supervisory-cat-of-household-operations, it’s my job to make sure that every thing functions according to my plan. I walked into Momma’s room, like I do every morning, and yelled, “Get out of bad, Fat Ass! The litter box needs to be cleaned. My dish needs to be filled with kibbles. I need ear squishes. Rise and freakin’ shine!” 

I braced for impact as Momma pulled back the covers. I’m fairly certain the vibrations from her clodhoppers hitting the floor registered at least a 5.0 on the Richter scale.

While she was downstairs micromanaging her offspring, I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast consisting of fresh water and crunchy kibbles. Then I decided to go downstairs and see what was going on. By this time, Momma should’ve had everyone’s lunch prepared.

As I entered the kitchen, the Little Thing’s Minion, a.ka. the five-year-old, looked at me and said, “Gwennie! You’re not my kitty!”

 

“Little Missy is my kitty,” she continued, as if I cared or something. “She doesn’t hit. She doesn’t spit. She doesn’t slap.”

“—She tolerates your miserable existence,” I interrupted, eager to make her stop talking. “Listen,” I began. “I really don’t give a rat’s behind who your kitty is. MY human is Momma. She’s old. She’s fat. Her skin is dry and her poop stinks.”

And I meant it too, Diary. Her poop stinks! I know this because whenever I need a moment of peace, I run to the bathroom door and howl at it until Momma opens it. And when she does, I happily hide in the plume of her atomic bombs. Anything is better than sharing a space with the three little preverts she gave birth to. If the Little Thing’s Minion wants to covet a wet, moldy, hairball with bad breath and an ugly face, that’s her business.

In retrospect, Diary, Momma is very fortunate I tolerate her existence. Based on the highly accurate description above, I’m amazed anyone wants to share a space with her. Maybe now is a good time to demand a raise.

 

 

via GIPHY
 

via GIPHY
That’s all for now, Diary.

This is Gwennie, signing off!

Thanks for shopping Snark, Sass, & Sarcasm! I’ll see you next time!

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James 1:12

Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood that test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.

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