The Asshole Cat

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This cat and I, we have a weird relationship.  I’m not sure who he belongs to, or where he lives.  He just appeared one night in the middle of my parking stall with these golden glinting eyes that caught the glow from my headlights.  He shuffled off into the darkness as if to say, “sure I guess you can park here tonight.”

Some nights he rolls around on the ground until I pet him.  Some nights hes an asshole and tries to bite me, and I swat at him and I go home.  Other nights he mews and cries indignantly, like I did him some great insult by coming home late.  Some nights I bring him bits of food and we sit on the concrete in silence, eating together and looking up at the stars.

But every night is a new night, regardless of how the last night went.  Whether he sunk his sharp little teeth into my hand, or I threw my slipper at him’ it all seems to slide off the cosmic score-card and every night we encounter each other anew.  Sometimes he’s an asshole.  Sometimes we are friends.

And usually, we are asshole friends.

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