Oliver the Cat: Part 1

 

My cat is starting to gain a sort of sentience.  Not in an empathetic, communicative way that some pets do. No.  In a serious, and really quite judgmental way.

It started as usual asshole cat behavior that was uncannily on point.

His eyes followed my hand as I reach for the remote, and an almost imperceptible eyebrow raise bent his furry brow.

“Yes, I’m binge watching again Oliver.  Don’t give me that shit.”

He paws my chip bag onto the floor with a meow, and walks away.  His tail lifts up in what appears to be a cat version of the middle finger.

Later on it was more obvious. He thought I should do better in life.  It seemed like he wanted to be a pushy life couch.

Early in the morning, he started to paw open my under bed drawer and drag work out pants or shirts onto the bed- drapping them over my face and then batting softly at me until I woke up.

“Oliver!! It’s too early.”  He jumped up on my face and promptly laid on it.

Then, he started to leave messages for me in the form of vomit.  I know, cats vomit a lot.  But the hairballs started to form letters.

I swear I’m not going crazy.

That morning I had been discussing a date I went on, how the person in question was very hot but also seemed emotionally bereft and self obsessed.  I was telling Oliver all about it as we cuddled in bed together, him purring a gentle rhythm on my chest.

“Do you think we should go out again?” I asked.

The next day I found two cat vomit piles.  One I immediately stepped on upon waking, with a swirled “N” shape.   I didn’t think much of it and went to work.  When I came home there was a perfect “O” on top of my winter shoes.

I never saw that person again.

Later, I completely embraced our new relationship, and started to rely on him for all my important life decisions.  I would dangle dresses and go with whichever one he batted at first.  I would ask clear yes or no questions.  “Should I quit this job?”, or “Is this a good investment?” and interpret his actions and body movements accordingly.

He never steered me wrong.

I became the disciplined and successful person I always wanted to be.

One day, I came home and he was gone.  I quickly went to his litter box, where he would often leave signs for me in the forms and shapes of his waste.

Reading the lumps and poop forms, I could tell that he went on a journey of discovery  and would be back soon.

Two days later I heard him scratching and crying at the back door.  I opened it up and let him in.  Around his neck was a red bow and a note that said “I need your help.”

He looked at me with glistening and knowing eyes.  I nodded, and grabbed my purse.

“Lets go!”  I said, stepping out with him into the  night.

I followed his trotting form into the darkness.

 

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2 thoughts on “Oliver the Cat: Part 1

  1. Cool story!! I want more.

    Like

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