I’m well aware of the reputation felines have for being unfriendly. I’ve heard many a story of vases being knocked over, couches ripped to shreds, and caresses rebuffed, but I still can’t help but be blown away by how much my roommate’s cat hates me. It wants me gone and I know it--and I have no doubt that after reading this, you will too.
Every night when I come home, the cat meows at me.
It starts the second I enter the apartment and ends about a minute after I’ve gone into my bedroom. I know it’s just meowing, but the cat does it with the anger of something that wishes it could say “Fuck you.”
Every time I go to the bathroom, it tries to spook me.
One time, it jumped out of the sink. Another time, it popped out from behind the toilet. I have to wonder what’s next--rising from the watery depths of the bowl? I hate being frightened, but I don’t suppose there’s a better place to have the shit scared out of me.
The cat always scratches me.
It doesn’t matter if I’m talking to my roommate or polishing my knife collection, that darn cat is always clawing at me. Do I look like a scratching post? No! I threw that thing out because it was ugly.
The cat never cooperates when I put it on my shoulder and pretend it’s a parrot.
Thar she (he? whatever it is) blows when it comes to having fun. My old roommate’s parrot was so much better at that. It doesn’t help that its owner gets all bent out of shape when it sees me trying to cool up his lame pet.
Every time my roommate leaves, the cat tries to go with him.
I struggle with abandonment issues and have ever since my old roommate and his parrot left, but you don’t see me acting all crazy about it.
The cat always tries to interrupt roommate-bonding time.
As fast as I’m concerned, it can chug whiskey and wrestle with us when it starts paying rent. Until then, go cower in the corner like everything else does.
Every time the cops come, it won’t stop pawing at the wall.
Why not just tell them where the body is? Oh, right, it can’t. Which reminds me--fuck you, cat. FUCK YOU!