I’m not exactly sure how or why I was able to ignore the oppressive cat smell(s) of Cybelle’s apartment when I first came over to meet the perpetrators of said smells. I suppose I was just so desperate to appear normal, and a lover of felines, that I ignored the pleas of my usually astute, and opinionated, nostrils.
But now, thinking back on her statement, “They don’t smell too bad, right?…It’s this no unscented cat litter!”
No, Cybele. It is not the cat litter, because cat litter has little to do with those smells associated with pee/poo/cans of mushed up shrimp and chicken innards.
Smells are the least of my concerns, though, when I realize I have started to walk out of the house unknowingly covered in white fur, and worst of all, that I may not actually hate cats.
Yes, despite the fact that they are moody and shed non-stop, and have so little respect for personal space that I am fairly certain they would sleep on my face if I let them, I kind of like them.
Still, most of the time I find myself wishing they were dogs instead. This has made me resolute that I will never date a man whom I suspect of still being even moderately enamored of his ex-girlfriend; I never want a man to feel the same way about me that I feel about these cats.
One big plus about having cats around, however, is that there is little to no threat of vermin. On my last night at Ana Da Luna’s, I finally came face to face with the damned cockroach I had been pretending to ignore throughout my three weeks there. But then, there he was, just-a-hangalanging in the tub when I was about to get into the shower, and I was like not only are you gross, but now you are also a perv. So I let the water rain down on him, and gave him permission to haunt me as much as he likes. I guess I felt okay about it, until I remembered that I had to pick him up and throw him away, and almost puked as he crunched in my fingers (well, in the paper towel in my fingers).
I think I would be okay with it if I had to come back in my next life as a cockroach as punishment. At least I would be impervious to ice age, nuclear winter, and morals. Almost everything, except the Orkin man. And cats.
