Undateable

Epic mosh pit. Get your elbows up, motherfuckers!

All that being said -- what the hell, lady!?

Walking in the room scattering cat food like you're feeding a bunch of chickens -- wasswrongwitchu?

Look, I know you've got like 130 friggin' cats under your roof, which clearly makes you a shoe-in for the crazy cat lady hall of fame -- so you probably think you know a little something about taking care of the common household feline -- but take it from someone who knows, behavior like that is gonna get you eaten.

Seriously, cats don't screw around when it comes to stuff like this.

Back in the day the oldest of my two cats got tired of seeing me on the couch cuddling and petting on this incredibly sexy girl I was really digging, so when I got up to go refill our drinks she sauntered over to where my date was sitting and proceeded to drop a deuce on her shoulder.

Not near her. Not close enough so she could smell it like some territorial marking.

My cat started to take a dump on my date.

It was only sheer luck that let me see what she was trying to do seconds before it happened, which enabled me to dive across the room like MacGuyver so I could pull the girl to safety -- but that didn't stop her from having a jealous cat jump on her head while she was trying to sleep later that night, or her clothes and shoes from getting shed upon whenever the opportunity presented itself.

The two of them eventually reached a semblance of peace, but that was only after a bunch of catnip, a lot of patience, and the introduction of a new kitten (come to think of it, Aja tried to shit on her too). And even then -- now I've got to deal with two jealous felines judging anyone I try to bring home with me.

But if there's anything that proves just how much the cat runs
this house -- it's the shocking discovery I made the other day.

As many of you probably already know, I got my son a beagle puppy for Christmas this year. He's adorable and cute and all the other things that puppies invariably are, but for all his cuteness -- he's also kinda stupid (the pretty ones usually are, amirite ladies?)

To wit, housebreaking him has been a nightmare.

Although he (and I, lets be fair here -- I had to learn a few new habits too) is getting a lot better about knowing where and when to drop off his daily batches of baked goods -- this progress hasn't come without a lot of accidents, carpet stains, and raised voices along the way.

One major difference between dogs and cats is that dogs are very expressive with their eyes. There's a look a mutt will give you when he knows that he's done something bad -- sort of an ashamed half glance that lets you know it's time to put him into the kennel (which has become the conditioned punishment for soiling the rug).

But the other day I came into the living room and found the puppy already in the kennel of his own accord and already giving me the "I done a bad thing, Paw" look. I closed the gate on him, but then when I went looking around the place -- I couldn't find anything. No spots, no stains, no chewed-up stuff of any kind.

In fact, I was just about to let him back out of his makeshift cell when I smelled that familiar foul odor telling me that maybe he had done something. I tracked it down only to realize that he indeed had left a present inside the house.

But it wasn't on the carpet.

It was in the litterbox.

Damn cat's such a control freak she's telling the dog where to poop now. It's friggin crazy. I've got one of those boxes with the cover. I don't even know how he got his big ass in there, much less how he squeezed back out. But the evidence inside (oh the joys of pet ownership) was undeniable -- he had done the deed where all cats are supposed to, just like she told him to.

Seriously, what other motivation could he possibly have had for doing such a thing?

[Listening to:  Sevendust - "Splinter" ]