I wish my cat were a dog
Or an octopus. Really, anything would be better than a cat for a pet.
Don’t ask what Penny plans to blog about. His usual routine consists of: going upstairs, napping, going downstairs, napping, eating and repeating. Though recently he has spent a lot of time staking out in front of the oven, waiting to ambush one of the mice that lives behind there.
I think his plan is that one of the mice will walk out from behind the oven and not notice a giant salivating fury gray monster hovering above; then, seizing the opportunity, Penny will claw it to death.
Fat chance. I accidentally killed one of the mice by dropping a garbage can lid on its head (true story). Yet Penny stakes out in front of the oven for 8 hours per day and has yet to kill a single mouse.
Not a single mouse.
The one advantage of having a pet vermin — and yes, cats are considered vermin in the US — is that it kills other vermin. In that respect, Penny is a failure. I may have to reduce his daily rations if this lackluster performance continues.
I’ve also considered entering him into a local cat fighting ring (do they have those?) or patriotically donating him to the CIA as a test subject for their new Cat Guided Bomb project. And there is always the option of relisting him on Craigslist from whence he came.
P.S. No mice were injured in the making of this blog post.
(One mouse was killed, however.)