Oh my goodness! I'm five days into the New Year and I haven't done a cat post! You must be terribly anxious, so I am here to rescue you. Stop biting your nails, stop with all emotional eating, and you don't need to join that cult that's located in the Utah desert where all those bombs were tested.
I'm here to save you.
A CAT POST.
Once upon a time, in the year 2011, at the beginning of December, a beautiful snowfall wrapped Bern in its downy arms and made everything look soft and beautiful. In Bern there lived two little cats named Cosmo and Poppy, and these little kitties had the most kick-ass life any feline has ever known because they had two servants who tended to their every need. At first these servants thought they were in charge of Cosmo and Poppy, but when the servants found themselves one midnight hour balancing precariously on the edges of their respective sides of their bed while Cosmo and Poppy were stretched down the middle taking up 80% of the space, the servants realized they were in fact not in control.
And never had been.
And so it was that early December of 2011, when the snow began to fall, the cats demanded to be allowed outside to explore this feather whiteness. The female servant happily obliged their piercing mews and let them outside on the balcony so she could take a few photos of her geraniums, which were now surely going to die (she'd secretly been hoping they'd stay alive until spring because she hates gardening and didn't want to deal with replacing them).
Once on the balcony, Poppy decided the snow was a disagreeable coldness on her royal paws and with a whir in her throat she ran back inside, all the way down the hallway, and back onto her servant's bed where she was content to lie on a pillow and look at this view outside the window.
Cosmo was not this easy to please, and after a few desperate mews and a thwarted suicide attempt to jump off the deck, his servant put his collar on him and took him downstairs to the winter wonderland.
He was really not sure what to make of being paw-deep in this white stuff, and didn't seem to enjoy it that much. So his servant had a moment of rebellion, picked up her charge, and then placed him in the middle of a child's snow fort before she ran back to building's entrance to watch his reaction.
He was not pleased.
And ran as quickly as his clumsy legs could carry him, back to the snow-bare entrance of the apartment building. Then his servant forgot about him for awhile because she was busy taking winter pictures.
It annoyed Sir Cosmo that he was being ignored, and so he let out a little screechy howl to let it be known that he was ready to go inside now.
His servant kept ignoring him in favour of winter pictures.
That was a mistake, she unfortunately learned. You see, while Cosmo was not at all interested in the snow he was alertly intrigued by something else.
Namely the dead grass that was hiding under the snow.
So he ate it.
So he ate it.
A lot of it.
And then he puked it all up, plus breakfast, right in front of the doors to the apartment complex.
"Hey, hey, hey, that'll teach her to ignore me!"
And then the servant was faced with the uncomfortable task of disposing of cat puke. So as Cosmo stood heaving up his second pile of grassy vomit complete with hairball, she kicked the first pile into the snow. Then the second. Then as she lugged an irritated Cosmo inside (who now didn't want in, he wanted to keep eating dead grass) she hoped the snow would stay around so that the grassy puke would be hidden until spring.
But it rained.
So then the snow was all the gone, but now the two grotesque piles of sodden hairball puke were visible. It proved to be unbearable to look at, so the building maintenance guy cleaned up the lawn.
And they lived happily ever after (or until DNA analysis matches the puke to Cosmo and we get a letter about it).
- The End -