Skip to content

The Fur Bastard and I Need Mediation

    Me:
    I’ve had it. I want out. I’ve endured your feline-bulimia, weathered your incontinence issues, and funneled my children’s college money into fancy diagnostics. As the tests showed nothing physically wrong with you, I have to assume you’re experiencing psychosomatic issues as a result of emotional or mental difficulties. Would you like to talk about it?

    Fur Bastard:
    I don’t feel safe in this environment. First of all, you have opposable thumbs and I do not, so I cannot trust you to adequately represent my side of the story in this typewritten format. Secondly, I don’t the appreciate name-calling, as in “Fur Bastard” Please call me by my given name, “Henry.” I don’t much like that either, but I’m used to it after 12 years.

    Me:
    Sorry, Henry. I could give you a blog-alias, but I’d prefer not to protect your identity.

    Henry:
    Don’t use that tone with me.

    Me:
    Henry, what is your major malfunction? Why—when I have two young children who mostly sleep through the night, and a snoring husband—must you wake me every hour?

    Henry:
    The side of my mouth needs scratching. I’ve found your bedside table objects the only effective remedy. And I’m hungry for exactly one teaspoon of Fancy Feast dosed exactly on the hour. Is that so much to ask?

    Me:
    Enjoy the no-kill shelter.

    Henry:
    Empty threats. We’ve been down this road before, missy. You couldn’t live with yourself.

    Me:
    Don’t call me missy, you Fur Bastard.

    Henry:
    I can’t live like this. I can no longer abide by this constant character assassination.

    Me:
    Go cry on your obese furball littermate.

    Henry:
    Go cry on your skinny husband.

    claws, yeowling, exclamation mark, crying, dust, asterisk, hair, arms, paws

    to be continued…

    0 thoughts on “The Fur Bastard and I Need Mediation”

    1. Ann, I miss my beloved kitties, and it is a long way to post Henry to me but, for the sake of your sanity, may I recommend not allowing them into the bedroom at night?

      We never permitted their ramblings and they had their own room – the laundry room, with beds and dry food and trays, usually plus the living roomb(and sofa, yes, our sofa!), to roam around if they were in overnight (which they usually were)…, the little furry treasures!

    2. I’m glad the blog idea didn’t fly…with Henry the Dog and Henry the Cat and Ms Liza Bean Bitey Of the Minneapolis Biteys, I’m stretched….

    3. I’ve got a couple of those furry kritters myself. I think they demand attention at odd hours b/c they have been so neglected since we brought home our little bundles! I hope you visit me on my my big Bloggy Joggy Day! 🙂

    4. Hi Woman, ok I made his bed a little cozier. You can still take him though.

      Rachel, I wish.

      Adlibby, if only I was allergic I wouldn’t be in this position.

      Comedy, Wah? Sounds mysterious.

      Tooj, he did. The snorer did not.

      Braja, LOL.

      Michelle, I did. We’ll see.

      Mama Bird, we’re so beyond that I’m afraid.

      Pearl, OMG I’m so blind. So THATs his major malfunction.

      Bern, him first.

      Mammatalk, Congrats again, and I did!

    5. ahhh animals!!!! my bf is trying to get me to love dogs.. ahh.. we are dogsitting his dog for a WHOLE month while his parents are away… an man… i will have much to blog about there!

    6. As a bulimic cat owner, I feel your pain. I am forever picking up dead squishy hairballs it’s pretty damn gross. Especially in the middle of the night

    7. Maybe you could work on his body image and the feline bulimia might improve? I have a good feline plastic surgeon I could recommend.

      Oh and your one of the three Karm-a-thon winners! You get a custom (avec or sans Blicky) photoshop work. Anything from kids pictures to anonymous photoshop gruntwork for your latest awesome blog post.

    8. Henry sounds like a lovely kitty. Really.

      I once had a cat who loved to puke and crap on my car. Nothing starts the day off like having to clean chunky crap off the front window. I swear that cat was a demon.