It’s a girl!
At least, I think it’s a girl. That’s a girl, right? OK, yes, it’s a girl.
Wife and I are at worldwide pet store franchise, GloboPet (name changed to keep Big Pet off my case), picking up the newest furry addition to our family: New Cat.
The best part? Cat has no clue.
He’s probably at home, stretched across the couch like a lump on a log, daydreaming about how quaint and hilarious it is that his human slaves work day and night just to keep the house they bought for him up and running. Little does he know that, at this very moment, we’re getting to know a sweet little tortoiseshell who – get this – doesn’t bite you when you pet her!
I can’t wait to see the smug grin evaporate from Cat’s face when I stride through the door with New Cat. “The party’s over, hot shot,” I’ll say, stroking New Cat’s fuzzy belly as she lays supine in my arms like a newborn baby, purring.
Realizing he’s no longer king of the castle, Cat will BEG me for forgiveness. He’ll do anything. He’ll even let me rub the underside of his chin for as long as I want, without losing a finger!
Yep, once Cat comes face to face with New Cat, things will be different. Things will be better.
Eh, I guess we’ll find out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to find the bag of kibble we’ve got a coupon for while Wife fills out the adoption paperwork. Oh. Good. There are only five hundred different kinds to comb through.