J-Fed Loves Pussy (G Rated)

Life is full of ironies – there are those that make you laugh and those that make you cry. In my case, the little ironies make me want to scream. Once again, things had gone to the dogs, and this time over a cat.

For most people, a black cat crossing your path is usually an indication that bad luck was just around the corner. And I was no exception. J-Fed, on the other hand, just couldn’t get enough of the stray cat that kept strutting around our front yard. At first, I didn’t notice that little Felix had taken residence at our humble abode… until that fateful night.

I walked out into the garage, and everything was status quo. There sat J-Fed, cigarette in one hand, Frap in the other. However, what made this sight so unnerving was the appearance of a black cat propped up on his chest rubbing on his unshaven face. I could have sworn I heard J-Fed purring.

There were a number of things that disturbed me about this whole scenario. For starters, I’m not a cat person. They make me sneeze and itch, not to mention I have an irrational fear of ringworm that stemmed from some childhood teasing. Next, there was something about the fact that we had no idea where this cat had been.

For all we knew it could have been rolling in a bacteria-infested puddles and feasting on feces. Yet that didn’t stop J-Fed from cozying on up to the little critter. And how often did he ever cuddle with our two boys in the house? Hell, how often did he cuddle with me. Rarely. It’s as if he barely recognized their existence… or mine.

Needless to say, as I stared at J-Fed, all I could think is, “Yes, my pretty. I’ll get you and your little cat too.”

“It’s got to go,” I said firmly. “I don’t know where that cat has been and I don’t want to be exposed to any diseases. And I certainly don’t want our daughter exposed to it.”

“He stays,” J-Fed said flatly as he polished off the Frap and extinguished his cigarette.

“He goes… unless you intend on taking him to the vet and getting him checked out,” I snapped back.

“Deal,” J-Fed said with a smirk as he ran his hand up and down kitty.

Inside, I laughed and laughed and laughed for I knew there was no way on God’s green earth that J-Fed would EVER take a stray cat to the vet. How was I so sure of this? Because I’m the one who always takes the animals to the vet. Just last month, I had to haul in a 70-pound and a 90-pound boxer, with a 5-year-old and a 3-month old in tow.

As my small family was basically dragged into the office by the hounds of basketcaseville, empathy oozed from the staff.

So you can only imagine the shock and awe they felt when my 6’4, 200-pound husband arrived with a 15-pound cat in his hands. It was much like the shock and awe I experienced when he actually took the cat to the vet. Yes, you heard right. Let me break it down for you

Kiki’s Stats: 5’4, 129 pounds
Accompanied by: one 90-pound family dog, one 70-pound family dog, one 5-year-old daughter, one 3-month-old daughter

J-Fed Stats: 6’4, 200 pounds
Accompanied by: one stray cat

Oh the irony. Knowing the gals at the vet as well as I do, I can only imagine they secretly wanted to euthanize little J-Fed. If only dreams came true.

J-Fed’s trip to the vet could’ve been the final nail in my coffin, but no, it only got worse. You see, when Fluffy returned from the vet, he prepared a meal fit for a king – fresh tiger shrimp combined with a can of tuna fish. You can only imagine the look in our dogs’ eyes as they watched the traitor place the bowl of fresh seafood in front of Sylvester while their bowls remained empty.

Unhappily Ever After,

Dog 1 and Dog 2