Maybe this is a sign. I just looked out my bedroom window and the cat (which I named Charlie) is at the front door waiting to come inside her newly acquired home. I was the shithead who said "hi" to her in passing and she was the jerk who followed me all the way home. What was I supposed to do?! It was raining outside. After three cans of tuna fish, I went to the corner store and bought her normal cat food. Since then, she hasn't shat once. That is until 4am. I almost added to the mess by throwing up on top of the shit. Makes me wonder how I am ever going to change my own kid's diaper.
I can't stand cats. I REALLY realllllllly don't like them, but what the hell. All of a sudden I have become (ugh) the surrogate mother for this ...feline. Because I don't do litter boxes, I find myself digging through bushes at all hours of the nite, calling her name out of my bedroom window and walking the streets making cat noises just to bring her back home. She's nocturnal and my largest fear is that since she likes to go outside and play in the middle of the nite, she's going to get involved with the wrong crowd and ...who knows... become addicted to catnip and get pregnant? Oh my God. I have to go and find her RIGHT NOW!
