Recently, I’ve been wanting a cat super bad. The last cat i had was, like, dragged off my porch one night by some vicious animal, or something. So, obviously, I’ve been needing to find another furry friend to smother with all the burning love pent up inside my over-affectionate body. However, i don’t want this cat to be a huge b*tch, like the last one, and to actually love me back. As sad as that may sound.
Anyways, I decided that before I subject another feline to the constant cuddles, squeezes, and other rigors of being my adoring pet, that i should research ways to make sure this next cat will be absolutely crazy for me.
Thankfully, the internet is full of other lonely, pathetic losers, except these losers know a lot about cats. So, i was able to find a plethora of sites schooling people on how to bond with their pussy, which is exactly what I was hoping for.
There were numerous tips, from stupid obvious stuff like petting your cat, all the way to licking your cat’s fur, which is where I draw the line on bonding with animals. But, the sh*t they say to do gets even weirder, like blowing in your cat’s butthole kind of weird. Not even joking.
Sorry for assuming your gender, but, apparently, you’re your pet’s ‘Mommy’. Which sounds kinda cute, but, then again, not really that cute, because now you’re going to have to blow on your cat’s dirty starfish, every time she backs it up into your face.
As the air tickles your little buddy’s behind, it makes the cat think that you’re ‘cleaning’ her, like it’s mother would do. Thus, making your cat associate you as its’ mom, or something. And, supposedly, inducing it to love the sh*t out of you.
I say ‘Supposedly’, because I seriously doubt I’m going to be blowing into my cat’s asshole, in order to find out if it actually works. I mean, that’d be like me wiping your crappy fart-box, like your mom used to do, and expecting you to become my best pal in the world. See how weird that is?
So, I’ll just stick with the normal stuff to bond, like petting it, or feeding it every now and again. Or, if i happen to slip into the depths of bleak, love-starved, loneliness, maybe I will think about indulging my cat’s apparent need for my breath against it’s turd-cutter. Well, fingers crossed that doesn’t happen, right?
