Saturday, September 02, 2006

Milo Pisses All Over ThePeach's Futon/Life

You know my adorable, soft, cuddly kitten?

I’m going to put him in a sack and drown him in my sink. I swear to god.

I love Milo, but he has always been a difficult kitten. Besides being an all-around bad-ass motherfucker, he also has a biting problem and a spite problem. In terms of the biting problem, my adorable kitten wants to eat my motherfucking face. And he just might do it one of these days, which is why I sleep with one eye open. He gets in these “moods”, where he transforms from cute and gentle to demonic and evil. His ears flatten, his head becomes pointier somehow, he gets the crazy eyes, the tail starts to twitch and thud against whatever he’s perched evilly on – and then he makes a beeline for any exposed flesh on my body. My arms, hands, and feet are covered in wee little tooth scars. He actually lost a baby tooth in FauxHawk’s arm a few weeks ago. I kept it – for the memories. I learned to sleep with all of my appendages covered by thick blankets. But the fucker outsmarted me and started biting my face. Now I have to choose between suffocating to death under my blankets or waking up looking into Milo’s crazy-eyes as his teeth grind through my nose. I’ve never been very decisive…

And the spite problem? My kitten is a vindictive little bastard. The first time I left him alone overnight, he puked in the one carpeted area of my apartment. 9/10ths of my apartment isn’t carpeted. The 1/10th that is carpeted? White carpet. Now it is white carpet with various brown vom-stains. Once I had to work late (ya, sometimes I do that. Ok, it only happened twice. And by “late” I mean 5pm) and I came home to find a single, steaming kitten-turd festering smack-dab in the middle of my white bath-mat. Another time, I came home from the bar at 3am to find a similar turd sitting directly in front of his litter box. He’s like a monkey. Except instead of throwing his feces at me, he leaves them around the house.

But I could handle these character traits. I really could. My body adapted and began to generate skin at an accelerated rate on my hands and feet, I learned to live without sleep. I bought a new bath-mat.


Kitten’s going to die.

A few weeks ago, Milo got neutered. Not only did this NOT decrease the amount of sweet lovin’ he gives my stuffed cat (I came home the other day to find “fluffer” lying spread-eagle on the floor of my kitchen…kitten likes to smack his bitches around), but I also found out (through 2 biopsies which cost me more than I spend on food in 3 months…I can live off zoodles and vodka for the next year, right?) that the little guy has a fucking Immune System Disorder. Leave it to me to adopt the kitten with the ‘HIVs. This is not the kind of disorder which is going to make him die. It is the kind of disorder that necessitates that I shove a steroid pill down Milo’s throat ever day until his HIVs goes away or I kill him. Whichever comes first. Now we can add ‘roid rage to Milo’s list of character traits.

In case we’ve forgotten, here is said list and the frequencies of occurrence:

Milo’s Character Traits:

1. cute and cuddly: 5%
2. crazy-eyed destroyer of flesh: 45%
3. spiteful little bastard: 20%
4. HIVs: constant
5. ‘roid rage: 15%
6. the kind of stupidity that reminds us why natural selection exists: constant

Now, if you’re good at the maths (I needed a calculator to add this shit up), you will notice that I am missing 15% of Milo’s personality. It is this 15% that makes me tear my hair out, cry, ask Jesus why he sent me Satan in the form of a kitten (“is it because I’m sleeping with a Jew??”), and ponder the idea of letting the little fucker go live freely with the Universitytown wildlife. I could even handle the HIVs. But this – THIS – I cannot handle!!!

7. Pissing on my beautiful futon: 15%.

Oh god, it hurts just writing it. I love my futon. It is the one real piece of furniture in my entire welfare apartment. It almost makes me forget that the ceiling in my bathroom flakes mold into my sink, and that any day now the floor in my hallway is going to rot through and I’ll probably lose a leg to gangrene by the time someone finds me in the basement. The futon is brand new. It is shiny. It is a beacon of hope.


2 weeks ago, Milo started pissing on it for no reason and now I can’t make him stop. He’s probably done it at least once a day. I have tried everything. The vet told me to try putting an extra litter box under the futon. The kitten now craps in the extra litter box, pisses on the futon, and uses the original litter box as some sort of fort. The internet told me to put tin foil down on the futon, because kittens hate tinfoil. The kitten jumped around on the tinfoil like a ‘tard in an IKEA ball-room, tried to eat it, then pissed on the futon. FauxHawk told me to buy some kind of neutralizing spray to get rid of the scent so the kitten would stop thinking the futon was his new shitter. The spray cost 20 bucks, smells like rotten soup, and the kitten just pisses on top of it.

I have sprayed, febreezed, and scrubbed the futon with various cleaners – all to no avail.

You have no way of knowing this, but I just stopped typing for 10 minutes. Why? Because things seemed too quiet, so I looked up from my computer to do a quick scan of the apartment to see what kind of havoc the kitten might be plotting. The curtains were still hanging. None of my limbs were bleeding. That could only mean one thing.

Milo: *piss*
ThePeach: BAD KITTEN!!!!!
Milo: *piss*
ThePeach: I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!!!!
Milo: *piss*
ThePeach: *hysterical sobs*
Milo: *shakes off, licks own ass*
ThePeach: Why don’t you love me?
Milo: *ATTACK!!!*

My kitten is pissing all over my futon and my life.

I have lost the will to blog. I am going to go hover over my soiled futon and whimper.



soup na(t)zi said...

Your kitten stories bring a tear to my eye...I wonder if Milo would hate the 'Bitter Apple' spray that you can get for a few cans of zoodles at any pet store...lots of cats hate the smell, and you're supposed to spray it where you don't want the cat to go.

The Peach said...

I'll try it. At this point, I'd sacrifice a virgin (if I knew any...I mainly associate with tramps) and sprinkle her ashes on my futon if someone told me it might work.

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