Wanna know how much I hate my cat? This many.

Question: Louie, why are you such a dick?

10 months old and this asshole has accumulated more hate than any one person can in a lifetime.


What's that? Louie pee'd all over the clothes in the bathroom? And in the bedroom? And in a laundry basket of my clean clothes? And on a box of cheerios? And on my face? And ON MY LIFE? And then he took a shit in front of my bedroom door? And then I stepped in it? And then he ate the plant and threw up all over the place?
"Surely you'll understand, that bath mat looks just like my litter box."
"You mean to tell me that your pillow ISN'T supposed to be shit on?"
"Oh sorry, was this yours? What, you don't like the smell of my piss? Yikes, I guess that's my bad."
"I'm gonna have to plead the fifth, here."


Here's a little anagrammatic poem I wrote just for the occasion;

L- Louie, I hate you.

O- Oh man, I hate you so much.

U- Urine.

I- I hate you.

E- ...I hate you.

                                 This is what I wanted:

                                     This is what I got:

Look at you, your beady little eyes, too close together. Laying around like you don't have a care in the world. Little do you know, as soon as you fall asleep, I'm going to spray you in the face with the "Louie's a dick" water bottle. Not just once. No, no. Each and every time you fall asleep. Me? I don't need sleep. This is more important. You can hide, but I'm going to find you. In the chair, or on the back of the couch, or underneath the kitchen table, or against the wall downstairs, or on the bottom stair where you lay purposely trying to kill me, or in your litter box... Wait, what am I saying? You and I both know that I won't find you in your litter box.


You'll get yours.