We have a cat. The cat is allowed throughout the house except the computer room. The cat’s food dish is downstairs in the hallway and around the corner from the computer room. Between the cat food and the computer room is the doorway to the family room. Now that you have a general idea of the layout, I will move on.
A couple nights ago I went downstairs to the computer room to work on an illustration. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, something in my mind clicked about something I needed from the family room. I made the sharp left turn, flicked on the lights, and managed one step before hitting the brakes to avoid the pile of cat puke. Prick.
Below: See that? At least it was dry. Prick.
I want to know. I want to know why. Why? I just want to know, you know? I want to know why it is when the cat has to puke, he unloads on carpet. His food dish is on tile. The puke had half-digested bits of food in it, so he must have been eating when the urge to harf came over him. I can understand walking away from the dish to avoid puking in it, but why walk 5 feet back, make a right turn, struggle another couple feet in, and then unleash? He could have simply turned 180 degrees, heaved, then turned back to the dish. Why find my carpet? Is it to be a prick? He is a prick, but he’s also not stupid. I think there’s something more to it. I think the little prick wants to be comfortable when he pukes. Puking isn’t fun, but cleaning it is worse. Cleaning puke out of carpet is worse still.
Below: See that? Notice his food dish in the upper right corner of the picture. This crime was premeditated. That’s gotta be 7 feet from the food dish to the puke. And though it wasn’t completely closed, I’m sure he managed to push the door open a bit to squeeze through. Prick.
I swear if our cat had a carpet of his own, I’d puke on it for revenge. I’d eat my supper… no, I would wolf my supper and swallow chunks of it whole in preparation for the crime… then walk all throughout the house in search of his carpet. Then I’d kneel down over his carpet and begin the animated process of huffing and puffing and wheezing (like a cat puking). Then at the pinnacle of the performance, my ears would fold back and my face would contort with an expression of horror in my eyes (like a cat puking), and I would dominate his special carpet with a most heinous stew of revenge. And the best part? I would calmly get up and walk away as if nothing ever happened (like a cat after puking).
I’m going to make a hat out of that prick.