Cats Get You Fired
I hate cats. I always think that they’re going to jump on my face in the middle of the night and claw my eyes out. It’s why I’ll never date a girl who has a cat, had a cat or even remotely likes cats.
Now that being said, I have one responsibility this weekend and that is to feed my bosses cat. The cat’s name is Pus Pus. It’s a little gray alley cat with fluffed out hair and beady yellow eyes. My boss adopted it after it randomly wandered into his house off the street and decided to stay.
Pus Pus is a cold blooded killer. It catches mice outside the house and then brings them inside the house, releases them, and then hunts them down and kills them.
While my boss is away, Pus Pus is not allowed outside. So for the past few days, I enter the house put more food in her bowl, change her water, and despite my detest for her entire breed, I sit and read so she doesn’t have to be alone.
That is until today, when I accidentally left the door open and Pus Pus bolted off. Undoubtedly on some backyard safari mission to sleigh more wild game. Which means I now have a problem. I’m stuck here waiting for her to return. Hoping she’ll return. Praying that some wild coyote didn’t get the best of her.
I don’t want to have to explain to my boss that I’m not only irresponsible but also that his cat is dead.
It’s been five hours.
Pus Pus Come Home.
Please Pus Pus Come Home.
I Promise I’ll Love You.
I Swear I Mean it This Time.
Just Come Home.
Shit, I’m fucked.
