Stop Animal Cruelty

I have always opposed animal cruelty, that’s why I’m compelled to turn our cat, Claus over to the authorities. He may look like an adorable stuffed animal. He'll snuggle up to you, purr, and even lick your hand. But this is all a façade, behind those saucer-sized eyes, lurks a cruel fiend— a feline Moriarty.


I proffer the following three counts. Be wary of his numerous tricks and lies. We’ve learned the hard way, he is capable of almost anything.


#1 Litter Box Malfeasance: Claus fancies himself an indoor cat. He apparently believes that he is “too delicate” to do his business out-of-doors. With his highly inflated self- esteem, he apparently holds it all in, until we let him back into the house. When he was younger we kept his litter box in the bathroom tub. After we moved the box he seemed to think the drain was good enough so now we have to keep that bathroom door closed. His litter box is now upstairs on a vinyl tablecloth to catch any stray litter. Always devious, he has taken to throwing a few pawfuls of litter onto the tablecloth to rationalize using it, rather than squeezing uncomfortably into his box. He is the devil incarnate.


#2: Attempted Manslaughter: Being narcissistic, Claus insists on always going first. He runs ahead of us when we come home from work. He pushes his way forward when we open the basement door. I don’t know why he is so keen on getting down there. He can sneak into the basement any time he pleases, using his secret evil Ninja powers. He is constantly underfoot in the kitchen, hoping to trip someone carrying a hot pan. Worse of all, he has taken to jumping ahead of me whenever I go down the stairs. He entwines himself between my legs. He is fiendishly clever and doesn’t do it every time. So now I worry, even when he isn’t even there. Like in a game of chess, the anticipation is worse than the move. I’ve lost all confidence in navigating the steps. It is a deadly psychological game of cat and what he sees as a very large mouse.


#3 Extortion: Claus realizes I’m on to him, so he has been playing it cagey, pretending to be sweet, but he’s not fooling anyone. The other day I was gingerly coming down the stairs when I almost stepped on a dead mouse, carefully positioned on the bottom step. The rodent can mean only one of three things. 1. It was an attempt to scare me to death, which almost succeeded. 2. It was a threat, like that horse’s head, the gangsters put in the guy’s bed in the Godfather. or 3. It was Claus’ cynical attempt to bribe me into silence.


Final Note: If my body is found lying at the bottom of the stairs before Claus is prosecuted, make sure the police look for gray cat fur on my pants-- about shin high.