Don’t Let The Fluff Fool You

USA Today wrote about it, and Forbes followed with an article of their own. Science says our house cats would kill us if they could! After all, they are descendants of the apex and ultimate predator, the lion.

I guess this means my cat, Fluffy, wants to see me dead. Maybe overfeeding her is the ticket toward maintaining a kill-free relationship. Then again, feeding a mass murderer in the making may have her exceeding house cat size, and she’ll blossom into a cold-blooded killer!

I’m no masochist, but I put a lot of effort into bringing home this serial killer disguised as a stuffed animal. One would think adopting a cat would be easy. Most Shelters are overflowing with animals waiting for their forever homes. It was a surprise when our local Rescue greeted me with a lengthy, three-page “Cat Adoption Application.”

It got down to business with question one, “What is your annual income?” I answered, “More than enough to feed a cat.” Question two felt more invasive, asking for my place of employment and if they could contact my boss for a reference. I make it a point never to interact with my boss, so I answered that question with one of my own, “How does my ability to transcribe data translate to caring for a cat?”

I finished completing all the irrelevant questions and handed in the application, eager to select a kitty from the hundreds I could hear meowing from the Shelter lobby. That’s when she entered the room. The Nurse Ratchet of rescue cats, holding my application and practically pointing toward the door. Her facial expression said I wasn’t leaving this Shelter with any cats.

I eventually ended up with a kitten from a different animal rescue operation. Now I question their lackadaisical approach in letting some fluff ball go home with such an inept person to care for it. According to Nurse Ratchet, I’m incompetent at cat care. But, if she could see how well I treat Fluffy, she would think otherwise. I spend nearly a fortune on the best cat food money can buy. It should get a Michelin star for its meaty pieces of filet mignon. It’s that good!

I do appreciate people who help cats. These cute creatures play second fiddle to man’s best friend, the dog. But cats are special, even if they are plotting our deaths.

All this aside, why does an animal shelter need to know my annual income? That’s personal stuff. And I’m sure my boss has more important calls to take than one confirming an employee can both work a computer and care for a cat.

I’m looking at Fluffy as I write this. She’s been staring at birds in our backyard for the last hour, plotting her ambush. If patience is a virtue, cats have a first-class ticket through the pearly gates. They say all dogs go to Heaven, but cats will rule the kingdom if they don’t kill us first. After all, murder isn’t something Heaven looks upon fondly.