Yesterday in the 96 degree heat, I found myself searching store after store for some kitten chow. Apparently I was the one who caused her to be so sickly with the adult cat food that I was feeding her. Who knew that kittens off the street needed extra care? I guess that I looked at her like a crack baby; happy that they had any loving at all. That doesn't mean that I kicked her around and locked her up in an attic. I just didn't baby her like I should have. So yesterday I risked getting heat stroke, walked to the end of the earth and back, to find only adult cat food. What the fuck?
With no other option (besides slitting my wrists and having her suckle off of them), I get the food. And how does this broad repay me? She comes home later that day looking stoned out of her mind! What the hell type of clique did she find? Here I am contemplating whether her palate would prefer a salmon or chicken aftertaste and meanwhile she is busy getting jumped into some degenerate cat gang. I feel like such a punk. My own cat manipulated me into moving her into a normal home and endlessly supplying her with food. I was nothing more than a mark for her. She is eating me out of my cupboards and then sleeping all day. Her active time? Late at nite when I'm sleeping, she goes outside and "hangs out with friends". What's next? I'm going to find her stealing money out of my wallet? The goddman TV is going to end up missing?
