A Letter To My Cat

Dear Julie,
Why did you have to puke on the hallway carpet outside my son's room at 2:30 in the freaking morning? And, why couldn't it have been your normal hairball, instead of the mass of yellowish yuck you left on my nice white, shaggy carpet? And, why did it have to happen when I was sleeping on my son's bedroom floor to help him transition into his new room? Why did you run into his room and puke some more, instead of into the bathroom where I was trying to lure you? And, why, oh why, did it all have to happen after I ran out of my favorite stain-fighting cleaner? You know, the stuff that I can only get by calling an 800-number from a website, the stuff that's used in schools and offices and by janitors to get rid of the toughest stains and smells left by kids and animals and the like? Why couldn't you have waited until later in the morning, like right before Hubby left for work? Actually, Hubby stepping into a pile of cat vomit might not be the best way to have him start his work day. I really do love you, dear Julie, but ever since you started peeing on my new living room floor because you're stressed with all the new changes (moving, new house, 2-year-old torturing you), you've really started to get on my last nerve. Do I need to find a cat whisperer? Do I need to take you to an animal therapist? What do you need for me to make you happy again? Oh, dear Julie, I miss all the good times we had. If you could really stay in the house when V and I leave for some reason, I would really appreciate it. Then, I wouldn't have to worry about chasing you around outdoors and hurting myself by falling down the front steps. And, then, you wouldn't get fleas again for the bazillionth time. See, it would be a win/win situation! Really, Julie, you're a great cat. I just hope we can get along better in the future.
Take care,
Your Human
P.S. Thank you for puking on the kitchen floor after lunch. It was much easier to clean up this time around.