Romeo, part deux

Sometimes, I’m stupid.

A shock to read, I know. But it’s true. two weeks ago, I somehow roped myself into watching a family friend’s cat while she’s out of town. I won’t get into specifics as the mere thought of it raises my blood pressure and blurs my vision. Suffice it to say that I didn’t actually agree to do it, but there I was living out the remainder of a mediocre summer….in feline hell.

You may remember Romeo (aka Tubbs aka Fat Piece of Shit aka fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck youuuuu cat) from one of my first blogs when I moved out to LA nearly three years ago. Romeo is a spoiled lil fella, and he and I don’t necessarily see eye to eye. He is needy and whiny, to which I respond, “bitch, you’re a cat, what is wrong with you?” Since our first meeting, this rather unattractive calico has become absurdly, and i mean grotesquely, fat.

Watching him clutch his way up onto the couch is more painful than watching an adolescent Chris Farley climb rope in gym class, or John Goodman eat an entire thanksgiving dinner by himself. Every time Tubbs successfully made the “jump,” I would reward him with a, “good job fatty!” and then withhold his dinner. Yes, it's very clear that I just might be an absolutely terrible parent someday.

The story begins.

mid August when I ended a two week stint house sitting for Rocco and watching two dogs. No sooner had I turned over the keys and returned all dogs, did I have to drive over to Romeo’s home and tend to his every need, (read: feed, comb, pet, ignore). I have a problem with this particular situation because cats shouldn’t need babysitters. dump some food out, fill the water, leave town = nuf said.

Romeo is a brat. He is an indoor cat who has three dishes of food out at any given time. Two SEPARATE types of dry food and then a full can of fancy feast twice a day. He is obese. I actually feel bad for the thing….until it starts meowing. Not a cute lil meow, but more like an insipid alley cat in heat. And it sneers [at me] with its creepy yellow eyes. eyes that reflect nothing but resentment. *meooooowr, hiss, sneer*

I should have known.

I should have known something would go terribly wrong when the owner left the following voicemail for me,

“oooh hi Missy, thanks again for taking good care of my ‘lil’ romeo. I hope he doesn’t keep you up all night, like he does to me. and I get up too! Oh I just spoil him. Don’t forget to check his ears for wax, the cotton swabs are in the bathroom.”

I’m sorry what? I have to swab wax out of his ears??!? Up in the middle of the night?!?! Sweet Jesus.

the beast

I miss my bed.

For the first two days, I left the radio on for Tubbs, because I wasn’t around much. So when I returned to stay I tried to swap off the radio. But it was possessed. No matter what I pushed, the damn thing kept blaring KMOZART. Wtf - turn off you piece of shit! I finally ripped the cord out of the wall. Problem solved.

Then I couldn’t sleep. The unfamiliar bed was too small, there was no top sheet and I forgot my own pillow. This sucks. Two hours later, I jolt out of bed….Romeo’s owner had forgotten to turn off her air-raid siren (alarm clock). Now I ask you, WHO has their alarm set for 2:30 am? No matter what dial I turned or button I pushed, I could stop the screeching. Frantically, I ripped the battery out and threw the clock across the room. Silence. Thank God. Meooowr. Mreooooooowr. MEEEOOOOO…….fuck.

I hate you, you and YOU.

The week did not progress much better. Turns out, the trash truck arrives around 6am in the morning – twice a week. Apparently this refuse company actually punches through the walls to remove trash directly from the apartments. Either that or they were truly slamming the dumpster into the wall by MY FACE for no good reason. WHAM BAM BAM BAM BAM. BEEEP BEEEP BEEEEEEEEEP.

And there’s nothing quite like getting out of the shower and stepping directly on pellets of kitty litter, freshly kicked out of the container by Tubbs himself.

My back hurts.

Each night worsens. I sleep less, my back is twisted, patience is waning. Tubbs now sits in the doorway twice a night and sings to me. until I throw things at him (alarm clock is already lodged in the closet door). Three nights in a row, he’s jumped on the bed. The first night it startled me and I kicked him across the room. The other two times I pretended I was dead until he left. Not quite sure what tonight may bring.

I think the neighbor broke the TV. Took me a day to fix it…for nothin’. Turns out she only gets basic cable. No TiVo. No Project Runway. I feel like i'm in a prison camp. I give up.

The suction cup shower caddy conveniently dislodged itself from the tile wall during my stay. Contents exploded all over the bottom of the tub. Super.

Tidy Cat.

on day six I had to change the kitty litter. went something like this: grab garbage bag, man that friggin smells. damn cats. do i dump the whole thing? i guess so. what is leaking out the bottom? oh jesus oh F$%#$cKING gO$^#$^DDAMN @#$@ MOTHER OF GO@#%^$JES@#$US@#%@#FING@#% MOTHER OF @#%$@%#SHiT BALLS^#$^&#HELL#@$^#$^ GD^#$^#$^# FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU@$^#$^&&%$&%K. i will never do that again.

A sick joke.

the rest of my ten day babysitting venture was more of the same....on my final day there i gladly dumped out a final can of fancy feast, gave romeo a smack on the ass and bid him adieu. as a test of good will, i attempted to leave the radio on for him again. it was on rather low, as not to bother the neighbors, but as i walked out, no shit, the theme to PSYCHO screeched from the speakers. EEEE EEEEE EEEEEE EEEEEEE. i ripped the power cord from the wall (again), locked the door behind me and vowed to just say no in the future.

NO.

Posted by missy at September 7, 2006 11:38 PM