Our cat Bob is not the smartest cat in the world. In California. In my house. (And I only have one cat.) His brain works much like those in-flight recorders. He’ll remember things up to a point and then the tape loops back and everything more than a few days old is lost.
He’s at least 15 years old, but for the past 5 years he’s been an indoor outdoor cat. He couldn’t take the sound of babies crying and kept busting out of the house, so we said “fine, go outside!” What does he do? He lies in the neighbor’s yard until it is time to come home to eat.
This has been great for him for about 4.5 years, but then the neighbors got a new cat. He’s big and territorial, and does NOT like Bob coming to his yard. But Bob never remembers this. He always thinks “What the fuck is this guy’s problem? I’m over here every day.”
Clearly othercat has had enough, and the other day ripped Bob a new one. Literally. He now has a new hole on top of his back. It is surprisingly disgusting, especially with the Frankenstein staple through the middle of it.
While he’s recuperating we’re keeping him in a kind of mullet-ed dog crate. Bed in the front, litter box in the back — I think that’s actually a lot better than a hair mullet, but he sure does not. In fact, he’s pissed as hell. See for yourself.