By Jim Byrnes
This morning I found my cat perched on the nightstand—like a gargoyle—glaring at me as though I had done something horrible, which I had.
I probably shouldn’t have done it, but I really hadn’t been left with any other choices. I had always known that something like this would have to happen, eventually.
As the stupid cat continued to chastise me with its accusing stare, I wished it hadn’t been a witness. Now that cat would be dragging my guilt around behind it like a parade float—forever.
If only I had gotten a dog instead. They don’t judge.
Well written, cats own you, dogs adore you.
One wonders what “terrible act the cat witnessed,” but it’s not really necessary to know. The judgmental nature of cats is the really important point. Nicely done.
Very nicely done.