Why I Hate You, My Cat
I hate my cat. A cynic would observe that I hate all cats and that’s fair. From toxoplasma gondii to their scratchy little claws, cats piss me right off. But I’m not here today to talk about cats in general, I’m here to talk about my cat; Tangeray. And that’s a perfect place to start, cat. I hate your name. What kind of white-trash drunken child names their cat after a brand of gin? Even worse, who misspells said brand of gin in the naming? I guess you and Oprah could hang out but misspelled names don’t cut it with me. If your name was at least spelled right I could call you Tanq, that would be fine. Instead I have to call you Tang, T-ray or “that cat”. But that’s not your fault.
While your name is a minor annoyance and embarrassment that’s not what I really hate about you. Most of my hatred towards you comes from you being such an awesome and friendly cat. I’ve never known a cat that wants to be pet, get belly rubs or craves human affection as much as you. Unfortunately that is the heart of our problem, your cuddliness keeps me from sleeping and I’m straight up ornery when I don’t get enough sleep. I understand that I sleep later than you like and you feel the need to meow at me or lay on my chest until I wake up. I understand that you don’t understand why I’m so tired all the time. Since you’re a cat, I’ll lay it out for you; I’m tired because of you.
Here’s you on the bed, sweet, cuddly and seemingly taking up hardly any room.
In reality this is how much space you take up, since I sleep lengthwise.
I don’t just share the bed with you, but also with my girlfriend. Although quite fit, she takes up roughly half the bed.
Between the two of you, this is how much bed is taken up before I even get there.
Thusly, I am left with the green portion shown. Hardly enough space for a grown man.
Sometimes, I can make it work if I sleep on my side and can somehow prevent myself from falling over the edge. Sometimes. But usually I just don’t sleep, or don’t sleep very well until my girlfriend gets out of bed at 5 and I can finally sleep like a real person. ….Until 6am when you sit on my chest and meow until I wake up. Granted, it’s not all your fault, as my girlfriend takes up much more space than you do, and I do indeed have enough room to sleep on my side. Or, I would have room to sleep on my side, were it not for your partner in crime; the dog.
You’re on notice Tangeray, T-ray, Tang or whatever it is you’re calling yourself these days. Something has to give. I realize you have 4 years seniority on my dog and I respect that but frankly, I just like the dog more than you. It’s not really your fault, I’m a dog person. As far as cats go, you’re the greatest cat I’ve ever met but if you wake me up at 6:00am tomorrow I’m going to start locking you in the bathroom at night. I’m sorry it’s come to this, you’ve been warned.
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