The following is dedicated to Arthur.
From the Best of Craigslist:
Oh no fatty. That food’s not for you.
Date: 2007-03-06, 9:35PM CST
Hey fatbottom, don’t think I don’t see you coveting the kitten’s rich tasty kitten food. So knock it off, cause you ain’t getting any.
You can hatch evil plans to acquire the tasty food all you want, but let me remind you, you’re a cat, and your strategies have been at best dismal failures. Let’s refresh, shall we?
You headbutted the kitten away from her food. This was your best strategy to date, and you actually got to snarf down some of good stuff until I caught you, and you were greeted by your arch nemesis, Captain Squirtgun and his sidekick Lieutenant My-Foot-To-Yo-Fat-Ass. Me 1, Tubbins 0
Brute Force no longer an option, you decided to go stealth ops. Lurk, waiting for the kitten to wander, then you swoop in on a high speed raid. That didn’t work out so well for you either did it? Why not? Cause at 20 something lbs, you don’t ‘swoop’ very stealthy. There’s a reason Possums hunt at night- because they’d starve otherwise… just like you’re doing now. Me 2, Sumo-cat 0
Taking no chances and sick of having to guard the kitten bowl until she was done, I decided kitten gets to eat up on the counter. You hate that more than anything don’t you? I can just see the resentment in your pudgy face. Why does she get to eat steak up there, when I’m eating compressed dust down here? Because I know you can’t get up to the counter without a loud distinctive grunt and making a calamity trying to wiggle your raccoon-ass between the wall and the toaster. Me 3, Fatty 0.
Clearly I own you. In all senses of the word. You really ought to just get used to the Vet’s prescribed food. You’re gonna be eating it for at least a decade, which is forever as far as you’re concerned.