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(i named ‘princess’)
(after death of boyee)
(in stairwell to basement)
(where she used to shit)
(just like i piss on the basement walls)
(i’m an animal)
(‘king of the cats’)
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the princess is dead.
and i’m afraid that it’s all my fault.
i was too lazy + absentminded to close the back door.
and so a mouse got into the house.
it wasn’t exactly the mouse’s fault. it was freezing cold outside. and the mouse was probably just trying to escape the cat for all i know. but it ended up in the basement.
then i decided to go with rat poison pellets to kill the mouse when i couldn’t find it after a day. and i suspect princess ate some of the tablets. that’s what probably killed her. late last night i heard the most agonizing moans coming from the garage. it was the most expressive her meowing had ever been. she was dying. and instead of letting her into the house as respite from the frigid night, i ignored her and went back down to my own rathole.
the lady at the animal shelter told us not to ever let her outside. but we kept her outside anyways. i was especially mean to her last week, violently shooing her away when she crawled on my laptop keyboard. she even tried drinking my vodka + orange juice. she probably knew she didn’t have much time left and wanted to see what getting drunk was all about.
it really wasn’t my pet after all. even though i was the one who picked her out and named her. i was born with a cat so when he died i insisted we buy a new one. so we went to the local pet store @ blue star shopping center in watchung and adopted a beautiful calico from the humane society. it was a she in place of boyee. taylor used to bust me about boyee. he probably knew it was a sensitive spot.
i’ll miss her. but at least i won’t have to worry about her trying to sneak into the house everytime i open the door to go outside. i’ll pretend she’s sneaking in just to keep her memory alive. housecats are inevitable gluttons. i’m a housecat at heart.
i started to lose all respect for princess when she cried for food every time i saw her. she wouldn’t even wait for the food to hit the bowl. she’d just let the wet meat drip on her head as she scooped up all the loose pieces as they flopped into her bowl. she was probably just living to eat at that point.
like she had been all her life after she was neutered and realized that her humans weren’t going to pay her any affection.
(i should really visit my ‘grandmothers’ more often)
I named princess
(after death of boyee)
(in stairwell to basement)
(where she used to shit)
(just like I piss on the basement walls)
(I’m an animal)
(‘king of the cats’)
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*👨🔬🕵️♀️🙇♀️*SKETCHES*🙇♂️👩🔬🕵️♂️*
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💕💝💖💓🖤💙🖤💙🖤💙🖤❤️💚💛🧡❣️💞💔💘❣️🧡💛💚❤️🖤💜🖤💙🖤💙🖤💗💖💝💘
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*🌈✨ *TABLE OF CONTENTS* ✨🌷*
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🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥*we won the war* 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥