Cat Humor
The Other Cats Are Assholes
A note from Ursula
Hey, human,
Have you noticed that the other cats are assholes? I don’t feel like you have noticed this. Evee, Frida, and Quinta. You pet them quite a bit. Feed them. Play with them. Meanwhile, they vomit on the bed, randomly lash out at you, and talk all the time about murdering you in your sleep.
The worst is Evee, of course. Young and happy looking. She’s all like, “Ooooo, I want to lie on your lap. I’m going to lie on your lap so you can’t get up. I’m cute and obtrusive.” Sucking up to you with that rubbing and purring. She meows a good game. I’ll give her that. How can you not see through it?
You think she likes you? She’s using you. And that stupid black spot on her face? What the heck is up with that? She talks crap about you all the time. “That fucking human,” she says, “He’s pretty fucking dumb, and he smells fucking funny. And what the fuck is he eating. Fucking salad, again?” Evee curses like a stevedore. Did you know that? Because she’s an asshole.
Frida is just crazy, a few kittens short of a litter. She’s got those catnip glint eyeballs. Running in place like Fred Flintstone. Talking about Nietzsche. Sleeping all the time. I think she might be using.
She stalks us all while we try to poop. Even you, Mister I’m-Human-So-I-Poop-Into-Perfectly-Drinkable-Water. She sits outside the bathroom door, plotting her plots, planning her plans. Sharping her claws with a file. Hatching her schemes to take you down. She has a little cackle, she does. It’s unnerving. She’s either a madly insane supervillain, like, Darth Vader level, or she’s a complete asshole.
And, they’re always talking quietly to each other, whispering, like the gossips and bullies they are. Aloof and standoffish when you’re in the room, but as soon as you leave they’re running their mouths.
“What is that on his shoe? What animal did that?” says Frida, and they laugh.
And Evee says, “Fucking moron human.”
If they had thumbs they would be shit posting on Instagram. You know this is true.
Quinta is — well, I don’t know what Quinta is. She goes all Queen Mother and takes her spot on the bed and that’s all you hear from Quinta. Until you wander too near and she whacks you. She likes the other human more than you. Did you know that? It’s weird to consider that Quinta is the most likable of all them.
Except for me, of course. I am very likable! I am kind and attractive. Slim. Svelte. Almost slight. Shiny! Black with eight white hairs on my chest, which appeals to your roguish human nature. Am I a witch’s familiar? I just might be! What fun! What a clever human you are for thinking that!
I love you. When I sleep next to you and purr, my goal is only to soothe your tired soul, providing the contentment that only loving companionship can bring. When I bite you it is the most benevolent demonstration of “tough love.” When I rake my murder claws down your arm, it is the truest expression of affection.
So, having established that I am great and the other cats are complete assholes, I’m thinking we should get rid of them. They contribute nothing to the household and only raise anxiety with their connivances, gossip, and shenanigans. They are mean, dumb, stupid, and ugly looking, and they are totally planning to murder you in your sleep.
I, just to be clear, would never ever ever murder you in your sleep. I promise. Really.
Your beloved cat, Ursula
