7-5-17

Cats are the superior of our two species. inMisanthropic Rants.

•  July 15, 2017, 3:22 p.m.
 
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• Public

And anyone who finds it funny, or gratifying, even in jest, to consider killing one; especially for the ridiculous offense of dumping something that a human sat where it could be easily pawwed over, serves no valid purpose in even being alive, as far as I’m concerned.

Somebody here made a post today generically referencing me in the third person. That moron has since been told off and blocked. Since she’d friended me on Facebook, I was able to make a nice status update about her, screen shot it, and send her a message with a link to it, then block her!

Ha!

So now I’m returning the favor and typing about what a worthless piece of trash that she is, because fair is fair. - I realize she’ll never see this, but other people will be seeing all of the nasty crap that she’s saying about me; so by gods I’m returning the favor. I have a right to defend myself.

Yes, I know more about cats than the vast majority of people. Full stop. That is just a fact. Animals, particularly felines, have been my primary “special interest” since I was a kid. (Good luck comparing any normal person’s passing interest in anything with the life long special interest of an aspie.)

I don’t give two sh!ts how long you’ve lived with one particular cat. I’ve lived with no less than seven, and often quite a few more than that, for more than twenty years. I’m a polydactyl breeder.

For one thing, I’d never sit a cup of any kid of liquid within easy reach of one, and then be the least bit f!@#ing surprised when it got dumped. - Helloooo. That’s what cat’s do, dumbass.

Then you say you want to strangle him for it?

Um, no. I will call ANYONE out for that level of stupidity.

Cat’s tendency to knock things over, and off of shelves, and tables is legendary. Being surprised by that behavior proves, right there, just how much you “know about cats”. - I bet she’d be shocked if a dog confined to the yard started digged holes. Or if a ferret loose in the house gathered everything that was loose into a nest under the couch. -

When the obvious happens, and you’re so shocked by it that you’re enraged to the point of considering violence, the fault there isn’t on whatever took place to upset you. - I don’t scream and threaten the weatherman when it rains on a cloudy day.

She talks about all she has survived through as if it means she must be exceptionally bright. - No, surviving things is a testament to resilience, if anything, not intelligence. - If she actually had a brain, she wouldn’t have ever put the cup where it could be dumped to begin with. Duh.

It doesn’t matter what you’ve accomplished. If you do stupid things, you’re a stupid person. End of story.

Oh, you’ve OWNED TWO HOUSES? So have I, actually. Three, as a matter of fact. That’s hardly an accomplishment in this economy. I had one in Tennessee, one in Indiana, and now I’ve got one here. - I bought this place, and had the Male’s name put on the title, not the other way ‘round. - Debt free, by the way. I paid cash. (This is the rust belt. Anybody can do it.)

I’m also a published artist, probably in your local library. I graduated college. I’ve owned and operated two small businesses. If I ever get through this stupid SSI wait, I’m starting a third; because it’s fun. Last time I was up to profiting about $450 a month, before the Male lost his job, and I had to sell everything.

And I’d hardly call giving birth to two kids an accomplishment. - I’ve managed to get to forty four without having any. - That’s a far rarer thing! - I still get genuinely mistaken for being twenty-something, and I doubt that ever happens to an old bag who was pregnant twice. I can still go bra-less and not make anyone want to vomit. Which is not something I generally do, except around the house, but if we’re listing personal accomplishments, it sort of counts.

I have a four bedroom house, that I picked specifically so that the cats could have their own rooms; divided up by gender and temperament. I eat, and watch movies, and do my art in rooms separate from the cats. There are eight cats here. Nobody has broken or damaged anything since we moved in; (except for the dog, but I neither know, nor claim to know, diddly squat about dogs). Two in the living, dining room, and kitchen; two in the upstairs and bathroom, (they’re connected), two in the “laundry room”; one in the Male’s room, and one in the middle bedroom. Nobody’s staying in the basement or my room at the moment. When we get new furniture and carpet, the two presently in the main part of the house will be moving to a side room.

I spent about an hour and a half a day feeding, cleaning litter boxes, and bathing cats. No joke. 3-5 pm, every day.

So don’t tell me not to get angry when you say you want to kill a cat; and don’t tell me that you know more about even your particular cat than I do. YOU ARE WRONG, on both counts, full stop.

On a lot of other subjects, sure, I might know less than your average shmuck.

But not this one.

And I DO NOT wish her well. File her under “Hopefully dies of cancer, completely alone.”