I’ll bet you thought you were pretty clever last week with the whole meatball incident. Knocking it off the plate, then meowing just as I bent down to sniff (sniff! not eat!) so that I got sent outside and YOU got to stay in.
Then there was cat-calling four nights ago, when you decided you just had to take a midnight stroll and gather up all of your stupid alley friends. You sat on the wall and sang and howled and you were going to wake up the ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD. So I came outside just to chat. Just to try to convince you to call it a night. And who gets collared after a measly two barks? Me! And don’t think I didn’t hear you and your ol’ biddies cackling as I got yanked into the kennel.
There is the fact that your food is high on the counter while mine is on the ground, giving one of us access to both. I think you know which one I’m talking about. Your surprised looks yesterday weren’t fooling anyone! I know it was you who ate the first half of my breakfast! Don’t you try to deny it. I saw you wailing all afternoon with that bellyache.
Blocking the doorways. Running me down the stairs. Sleeping in the middle of my big bed and leaving me your stupid pillow in exchange.
Enough is enough.
You see, I’ve been watching you, Cat. I know your ways. And it has not escaped my attention that there is a certain zebra you’ve had since you were just a kitten…
…Not that it matters, but that was supposed to be my stuffed zebra, just so you know. Mine. As in belonging to ME! But I guess you didn’t care about that, did you? Just like my bed. Just like my favorite rope that always magically goes missing whenever I’m in the mood to shake it around a bit.
Well the jig is up.
You see, I don’t like violence, Cat. I’m a simple dog. Stuffing is a great expense to me and I prefer to tear it out on my own time.
But something had to be done.
So, Cat, here’s an offer you can’t refuse: I want you to take your time, check out the bed, see what I’ve left in it for you. Decide if you want to end up like Mr. Zebra. If so, keep it up, buddy. Keep. It. Up.
I’ll see you at dinner.