However, I am an only child, and I’m so bossy, and I really like to be alone.
Me too. Me too.
People should go read this. Because I like it!
I just came upon a too-friendly-for-Brooklyn fat orange cat in my neighborhood. Although he had a creepy manface and cats are generally gross, he rubbed up on my leg so I pet him.
I noticed he had a fancy collar on, so I figured he was an inside cat and should probably be returned…right?
Also, if Lulu got out Lauren would lose her damn mind. Therefore I decided to burn through my Good Deed of 2009 and call the number on his glitzy brass tag.
Apparently manface is an outside cat who roams the neighborhood. And apparently I woke up his “owners” at the late, late hour of 10pm. Harrumph.
Do they only want to be called if the cat is hit by a car?
That is all.
(…for the record, the owners were actually extremely nice and appreciative of my call but I still felt like a spaz and wish I hadn’t wasted my good deed on this scrubby monster)
(…The cat was not a scrubby monster. I hope we meet again.)
(…Lulu is infinitely cuter than this cat)