Can't even think of three good reasons....

Don’t ya just love cats? If so, please list at least ten reasons why I should love mine. I have a few reasons why I shouldn’t love him—or even tolerate him—and I have shouted most of these reasons at the top of my lungs today while he stared at me in disbelief.

The shouting started when I came home from work today to find a lovely, wet hairball and accompanying vomitus parked conveniently beside my bed. Did I mention that the carpet is off white? Or should I say “was” off white? Now it’s “mostly” off white with a brown hairball stain right where I drop my feet each morning. That’s going to take some getting used to.

Why can’t cats throw up on linoleum? or on the dark blue carpet in the living room? Or in their litter box? If they learned how to crap inside, why can't they learn how to throw up in a proper place?

And what does this cat do all day that makes it so tired by the time I get home at night? This cat is utterly exhausted. Perhaps he spends all day finding the perfect place to vomit, and that just wears him out. I can’t think of anything else he does. I walked in this afternoon and broke up a poker game of local mice taking place on the kitchen floor. The cat was sitting on my bed—I suppose waiting to see how delighted I was about the deposit on the carpet.

So, why haven’t I had him declawed? The only reason I didn’t declaw him is so that he could catch a mouse or two; but he spends all of his time sharpening his claws on my leather sofa and absolutely no time actually hunting the rodents that he is biologically designed to devour.

I’m just not very happy with this cat right now. And he’s just as pissed at me. All of this yelling is interrupting his nap. What a useless pet. Give me a dog anytime. Anybody got ten reasons? Five? Three? Not me.