Just all kinds of wrong!

A cat typing at a computer.
Letter by Claire McElvaney
Illustration by Vanessa Lennon McElvaney

Dear Ethan & Olivia,

Well, LAST week did not work out as planned!

Whose cockamamie idea was it to take me to the vet? Do you people think I WANTED all those shots and bubble wands placed in inappropriate places? That so-called physical was so inordinately invasive that I got sick after! Have you seen what goes on when you let those people “weigh” me behind closed doors? It is NOT good back there, more like a warning to domesticated animals to avoid getting caught by the animal control folks.

Oh sure, the vet techs are all saccharine-sweet with how they talk, as if I’m a baby kitten, but all that sweet talk masks the sounds of vial and needles and manhandling (cat-handling?) of body parts I would rather not have touched, thank you very much!

Then my reaction to the trauma of that vet visit—essentially a conversion disorder—sent your parents into a panic. I thought they were supposed to be smart, but they’re kind of dumb, aren’t they? It’s a simple psychological concept: conversion.

I was upset at having my beauteous body kneaded like bread dough (DUH!), and the trauma meant that my tummy got sick and I was lethargic for a couple of days. Wouldn’t you be sick too? Seriously, unless you’re a show cat there is no reason for anyone to ever physically grab and play with your jolly bits!

So what do you ape-minded parents do when I was simply trying to recover? They took me back to the vet’s office! They were so panicked that they insisted the vet check me again and then—GET THIS—the vet called me a drama queen!!! AS IF!!!

LOOK, I do NOT mind being—on occasion, on my terms—touched, and I do NOT mind—again, on my terms—letting someone weigh me or hold me, but the needle thingys! Those are EVIL! That vet-person drew blood and gave me shots!!! My terrific tuckus had all kinds of holes in it by the time she was done!
So NOOOOOO! I AM NOT A DRAMA QUEEN! I DID NOT NEED YOUR PARENTS HOVERING AND SMOTHERING AND…wait, it just occurred to me.

Your parents—while entirely wrong to take me back to the vet—were showing through their terror of potentially losing me that they finally understand their true, lowly place in the world. They have finally realized that I am in charge, I am their universe, and without me they are NOTHING. Hmmm….this works for me!

I have changed my mind. The vet stuff is still warped, twisted, and all kinds of wrong, but if it scared your parents into finally comprehending how worthless they are without me, that’s not too bad.

I’m exhausted now. Go fetch me some fish.

LuLu the Magnificent Calico Cat

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