I have a feral whack slutty cat maintaining permanent residence in my balcony. She pees and poops there, looks at me with utmost disdain if/when I try to shoo it away and couldn’t care less if the place where she’s peed all over is today’s newspaper or my t-shirt. (And also I don’t want you to go all why-the-fuck-is-today’s-newspaper-in-the-balcony-of-all-places on me. I’d already got that from mommy dearest). I am almost always half surprised that a ‘duh’ doesn’t follow. She is so full of herself that whenever you glare at her in a pathetic attempt to shoo her away, she merely reads it as an invitation to come and live( and in my case, poop) in the balcony. And follows it up with an indifferent stare; I can almost hear her saying “Deal with it, sucker!”. She has an extremely busy social life and grabs every opportunity to romp with whichever
testosterone.. cat male sex hormone with unpronounceable name-charged cat twitches its tail at her. And of course the next night, the aforementioned former feline paramour is unceremoniously dumped for the next eager-to-get-into-her-*feline equivalent of human pants*-horny cat. In short, her life is an exact antithesis of mine.
My friend spent an hour trying to make me understand that this is a sign. It’s as if the universe and the gods have joined hands and sent her in my
life..balcony to point out the errors in my ways. Wake up Shreyasi Ghosh. There’s more to this cat than a puddle of sick yellow gooey pee.* Learn from her ways. Get a life. At least a vague semblance of it.
* Sorry for grossing you out describing how disgusting it actually is in unwanted graphic details.