I Might Have Accidentally Lost Your Cats

I went out to the barn tonight to feed the SwampDaughter’s bigass nasty cats. The big 30 lb. orange tabby was up in the barn rafters crying for me to come get him down, shedding cat dander all in my eyes. Did I mention that I’ve somehow developed an allergy to cats? As my eyes were swelling shut, I filled up his food bowl and retreated, looking for a ladder, so that maybe he could get his own fat ass down. Then I heard plaintive meowing from outside the back of the barn. I opened the door and, out in the darkness, could barely see the bigass black cat, who hates my guts, in the dim light reaching out from the barn. Now I knew why big orange kitty was in the rafters. Big black kitty had climbed out the top of the barn and big orange kitty was trying to follow, but he wasn’t nearly as athletic as the PITA black cat, who’d decided last week to christen the top of the new workbench that SwampMan built with multiple piles of cat shit. I think he was trying to tell us something.

“Here, Kitty Kitty Kitty!”

“Eat shit and DIEEEEE!” wailed the big black kitty. Well, it SOUNDED like “MEEEEOW!” but we both know what he meant. He’s lived in the barn now for something like three months, pissed and shit on everything EXCEPT the litter box, and had food and water provided daily by me at my expense. In that entire time, he has refused to even acknowledge my existence. I think he’s a Democrat. Maybe even a politician.

I went out into the darkness to try to capture a kitty that did not wish to be captured. While I was trying to catch black kitty, orange kitty got himself down out of the rafters and made a break for freedom, too. Now both kitties were outside and they could BOTH run faster than I could. FINE.

I left the light on and the barn door open. They’ll either come back or not.


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