I was about to take Prince for his final pee outing for the night. Carl asked didn’t you just take him out half an hour ago? I groaned: do you wanna take him? Carl stared blankly at me: I think my fever is back. I need to go lie down. Of course you do. Of course you do.
The eight pound monster and I took a leisurely stroll outside. There was an unusual amount of ducks in our backyard. It was pretty creepy – they were all huddled in a strange group, facing the same way, like some cult waiting for their leader to tell them it’s Kool-Aid time.
Of course, the beast couldn’t contain himself and he barked his head off.
Are ducks supposed to be smart animals? Because these ducks? Not very smart. Sometimes I wonder if they even have any brains. The seven ducks rose from their weird sleep pod mode and waddled over to Prince and me. I tried to ward them off by making stupid noises the toddler uses when she is none too happy with me. Of course, it didn’t work. The ducks paused a second and continued on their course towards us.
Like I said – not very smart.
Prince I crossed the street and he sniffed every single blade of grass on our neighbor’s front yard and then where does he pee? On the sidewalk. And a little on his leg. Sheesh.
We walked down the sidewalk a little further and that’s when I spotted the cat. THE cat. It sometimes sleeps under my car. We’ve never fed it anything and neighbors I’ve interrogated say they would never feed a stray cat, yet, this is the fattest stray I’ve seen. He’s fluffy and grey with a white belly. He’s cute in that I’m-gonna-scratch-your-eyes-out sort of way.
I turned around and blocked Prince’s view and told him: it’s time to go inside. I saw the cat cross to the other side of the road and thought well, at least he’s not stupid and walked towards our front door.
But then it happened. I didn’t expect it. The cat sat in front of the door and eerily channeled Blofeld’s cat with the haze of the moonlight shining down on him. I screamed. And not just a little scream where the air escapes your breath and you get a hold of yourself within milliseconds. No. This was one of those hysterical screams that unleashes from your mouth when you discover there is only one ice cream sandwich left and it’s partially melted and half eaten and drop to your knees.
Prince barked and jumped on his hind legs. He’s really good at walking on just his hind legs (I need to exploit this somehow and get some money for it). The cat remained there for a second longer before he nonchalantly walked by us and to his luxurious home under my car.
Carl opened the door: What the fuck is wrong?
Me, barely able to breathe from all the commotion: It was that damned cat!
Carl: You were screaming because of a cat?
Me: It was standing in front of our door, taunting us.
Carl: The cat was taunting you?
Me: Oh nevermind.
Carl: That’s what I thought. Cats don’t fuck with me.
I didn’t know I lived with the fucking cat whisperer(er) here.