Pets are odd.

So, I have three pets.  Well, two and a half, since one  of them is technically my boyfriend’s pet and not mine, but I like to think he’s mine.  Capone is my kitty – he’s a little over six I believe. He was four when I got him, and I’ve had him for a few years, so it’s logical to think he aged as well, don’t you think?  I have a three foot ball python named “Bounce”, but he secretly has three different names since my roommate and I couldn’t make up our minds.  The others were Nagini, like from Harry Potter, and I don’t remember the third one. Obviously it wasn’t important.  Oh, and my favourite is MacKenzie (or Kenzie, Kensington, Kenz for short).  Now that I think about it, none of those names apart from Kenz are really shorter than MacKenzie.  Oh well, those are my favourites.

The point I’m going to make is this: my pets are insane.  Jason went to go visit his parents in Michigan, and I had Kenz for a whole week.  My garden is fairly small, and I had recently put in new plants (hydrangeas, blueberries, rhododendrons, um… flowers of some sort which I don’t remember what they’re called.)  So I don’t really like Kenzie tearing up my yard, but he was pretty well behaved.  I had a company picnic at work, and Kenz was going to come with me of course.  And I like to leave the bathroom door open for him since he likes to sleep on the tile.  At the time, I was on that one week on/3 weeks off thing (which is a delicate way of saying that).  SO, in the morning, he jumps on the bed and everything is good.  I go in the bathroom to go pee, and my trashcan looks really empty.  I’m the laziest person on the face of the planet, so I know I didn’t clean out my trashcan.  The other bathroom had empty trash cans as well.  Kenzie appeared rather smug when I looked at him.  Kenzie had eaten close to five used tampons.

I  called mum almost immediately because I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t imagine that was good for dogs.  Mum laughed at me.  She just bust up on the phone laughing! Not fair, mum, I said.  I was truly worried.  Jason wasn’t around, and I had no one here I could run to (it was still summer hols).  So, I called the vet and got laughed at again.  They said he’d be fine.   Well, fricken Kenzie, you’re luck you’re cute.

Capone, on the other hand, has no interest in rubbish of any sort, and just enjoys being a kitty.  He sleeps in my bed most of the day.  Well, I had Ashley and Justin over to watch the England match last saturday against Estonia, and I watched him squat over my hat, and then run away.  I thought he was just being a weirdo.  Ashley got up at halftime and pulled me aside.

“Kristin, my bra is wet.  Smell this.”  She held it under my nose.  It smelled distinctly of kitty pee.

“Omg disgusting.  Throw it in the wash.”  I walked over and picked up my favourite hat, which incidentally smelled like kitty pee. The carpet had it as well.  I couldn’t throw the carpet in the wash, but the hat went in, and some other clothes that had to be done.  How embarrassing. I also cleaned the carpet.

The next morning, Capone is caterwauling around the house.  He was doing that weird cat babble you can find on You Tube that cats do sometimes.  But he’s NEVER done that before.  And then he was yowling.  And I was super nervous. I called mum again and she said he didnt like his box for some reason.  Well, I had just gotten him a new one, and it had a door on it. So, I took the door off and everything was fine.

The moral of the story is this: Pets are insane, and no amount of dog whispering or cat whispering will get you to understand them (unless you’re that mexican on tv who talks to dogs).


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