Another feline beast has adopted me.
They do this. They show up a few weeks before I'm about to leave the country, demanding to be waited on.
A few years ago before I left on tour, Sputnik showed up meowing one night when I was outside barbecuing. Sputnik was a stray who was eventually adopted by a neighbor who's at home more than I am. Now, Tabby has taken ownership of me.
Tabby lives down the hall with my neighbor, Victoria, who claims to take excellent care of her cat, though Tabby claims he has not been fed in three years and must receive tuna immediately. I have thus far refused his demands, to which he has responded by pouncing on my kitchen counter whenever I am not looking and slurping grease out of the sink.
Tabby also has a game he likes to play, called "Kill the Stupid Human." The way it works is:
1) Tabby rolls around on the floor looking cute and batting his eyes.
2) I, the stupid human, go to pet Tabby.
3) Tabby shrieks, "HA! You think you are clever with your measley fingernails!" He then digs his claws several inches beneath the surface of my skin.
I asked Victoria if it was okay to let him in when he comes meowing at my door. She said yes, as long as I don't feed him. She assured me he would not scratch my furniture. She was right. Tabby has no reason to scratch up my living room couch. Humans scream louder than couches.
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