J-Fed finally knows what it’s like to lose the love of his life.
It was nothing personal, but Zip the Cat had to go. For starters, it wasn’t fair that he was stuck living a life equivalent to a feline prison. He deserved a home where he could rule the roost and a family who would pay him proper attention. Try as I may, it was impossible for me to give this stray cat an abundance of unconditional love when there were two small children and two dogs waiting in line for the same. I mean, I have a big heart, cold as it may be, but everybody has their limits.
Then there was the whole fact that Zip the Outside Cat was using the front of my house as his litter box. Yes, for him, it was the great wide open where he was free to do his doody anywhere and everywhere. Well, this didn’t become a problem until the outside of Basketcaseville started smelling like the Atlanta Zoo. Sorry Zip, but that’s not going to cut it. And that’s what I told J-Fed.
Zip had to go. If I had said it once, I’d say it one hundred times.
“That’s ridiculous. You can’t get rid of him. He’s an outside cat. What’s the big deal? Besides I don’t smell anything at all,” J-Fed pointed out.
Of course you don’t you jerk. Maybe it’s because the smell of Zip’s cat piss and poop are overcome by the stench of your selfishness. Perhaps that’s what’s hindering your sense of smell, you maggot.
J-Fed and I were rehashing a fight from last week when he pointed out that he never said that the reason I couldn’t handle things was because of the extra dog. He reminded me that what he ACTUALLY said was that the reason I couldn’t take care of the cat was because of the extra energy I had to expend on the extra dog I was boarding. Of course, in the same conversation, he reminded me that the reason I couldn’t take care of the household was that I was pretty much impatient and completely inept. Thanks for the clarification J-Fed. You should have let me recall the conversation the way I remembered it.
Regardless, J-Fed took it upon himself to find Zip a home, but it wasn’t without him acting like the world was going to end. I mean, he was so broken up you would have thought they discontinued selling Frapuccinos and Newports. In fact, he let me know how very unhappy he was about this whole thing.
“But I’m going to miss him. I love that cat. That was his home,” he sniffed. I kid you not his bottom lip actually protruded, and I do believe I saw it quiver a bit. It was quite the opposite of the wide grin he had on his face the day he moved out. How ironic.
Do you think J-Fed shed a tear when he walked away from the hounds of Basketcaseville? Of course not. Out of sight, out of mind. Yet, he was literally heartbroken over the fact that Zip was going to have an actual home with people who could take care of him.
“If you love Zip, you should be happy he’s going to a better place where people can give him plenty of attention. Stop being selfish,” I said. I hate to point out the obvious but J-Fed only saw the cat for five minutes a week, which is more time than he spent with his dogs. I secretly wished when he said his goodbyes that Zip would claw him one time for good measure and give the SOB cat scratch fever, rabies or some other flesh-easting ailment. This was J-Fed at his finest.
And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, it did.
I asked J-Fed if he was going to take Zip over to his new home this weekend. That’s when he started pouting.
“I don’t really feel like driving the 30 minutes over there,” he said matter-of-factly. Well wonders never ceased. J-Fed would drive 45 minutes to get his go cart tinkered with twice a week, and almost two hours ONE WAY to race his go carts another two times a week. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to drive 30 minutes to take Zip to his new home. I was angry enough to spit cat piss.
He did compromise by saying he’d drop off Zip at his new home… on his way to go racing one night. How mighty big of him. All in all, it was just another gentle reminder that J-Fed was always looking out for J-Fed. Thanks again for making me proud that I was once married to you.
While I will be sad to see Zip go, I’m now realizing that the same can’t be said about seeing the Fedster depart. It’s funny how things can change so quickly.
Zip, I hope you enjoy your new home. Count yourself lucky. And J-Fed, thanks for finding him a home, it’s the least you could do, you inconsiderate louse.