Gabbiní with Ghoulie
Listen up, people! I know you are used to reading my momís thoughts in this space, but she canít come to the keyboard right now. Last I saw her, she was rewatching the latest Survivor episode for the fifth time. Get a life, am I right?
Anyway, I thought youíd all like to know more about me. I am the most interesting individual in the household ó yes, Iím including the humans and other cats in this assessment. To be clear, thatís not an opinion. Itís just the truth.
(But please donít ask anyone about it, especially that blind kitten Michael. She has no idea what sheís meowing about. I am the only one you can trust.)
So where did my infinite wisdom come from? I like to think it started from birth. Born and orphaned on the same day, I found myself in a cage with my smelly sibling inside the Good Shepherd Humane Society Thrift Store. We didnít get along all that well ó she loved to defecate on my back for some reason.
It wasnít long before we were placed in separate homes, by my request. She asked if Iíd write her and I said I would. That idiot probably still hasnít figured out we donít have opposable thumbs! Sometimes I wonder what happened to her. Actually, on second thought, I do not.
From the moment I stepped these paws in the Jones-Keas household, it was a better place. You wouldnít believe how much these humans love to serve me! Mom got up every four hours to bottle-feed me, and she kept doing it even after I mastered the art of lapping up water and munching on dry food.
Truth be told, I exaggerated my progress a bit. It was so funny to watch her wake up and groan and heat up my bottle. Sometimes sheíd ask if I could just wean myself already. I cackled every time this happened, but it always came out as a sweet little, ďMeow.Ē
As for my dad, heís OK. Our connection wasnít that strong in the early days, mainly because he didnít cater to my every whim like Mom did. Boy, did I have her wrapped around my little claw! I still do, and she knows it. Everyone knows it.
Back then, my best friend was BJ, an old orange tabby who did not like it when I bit his butt. We lived in a two-bedroom apartment so he couldnít exactly escape me. It was blissful. Then the humans shoved us in cages and transported us to a much bigger living area. BJ immediately explored every room in the house, but I stayed back to make sure it was safe. That stupid old man didnít realize he was the guinea pig!
Eventually we adjusted and the humans decided to have more feline children. I was so mad at them, especially Mom. Since she canít comprehend my dissatisfied meows, I had to rough her up to pass on the message. Somehow it made her love me more. What can I say? I am the best.
Time wore on and the new kitten, Jaws, wore me down. I agreed to be her friend so long as she agreed to favor Dad. Mom still tries to hold her and Jaws runs away, even after living with us for more than a year. I have trained her well!
These days, I occupy my time by playing fetch with silicon bracelets, terrorizing the weaker cats in the household and hissing at visiting humans for no reason whatsoever. Itís a good life, but it would be better if I were an only child. Maybe I can drive a wedge between Mom and Dad, and then I can have Mom all to myself.
Got any tips for driving your parents to file for divorce? Hit me up at GhoulietheDevil@gmail.com. I need all the help I can get, thatís for sure!
Ghoulash Jones-Keas is the most aggressive cat living in Eureka Springs West. You can reach him by emailing his mom, Samantha Jones, at Citizen.Editor.Eureka@gmail.com.