Go Ask Alice

The coffee shop around the corner has a flyer on its community board. The headline reads "I hate my life." Then there's a picture of a fluffy tabby cat.

Underneath the picture is this caption: "It was bad enough when my owners got a second cat. Then they got a dog! But to add insult to injury, they've started having kids -- two so far! Please take me away from this hellish existence. My name is Alice. I am seven years old and have been using a litter box since I was a kitten. If you adopt me before April 15, I will even help with your taxes."

Ha ha ha. So amusing. I am amused.

Also, incredibly, incredibly angry. Who are these fucking bastards with their humor and their droll attempts at covering up their total lack of decency? You love Alice enough to see her placed in a new, loving home AND YET not enough to say, slow down your rapid acquisition of non-Alice compatible lifeforms?

Understand that as I say this, underneath my chair is Anna, a napping jellical born in 1993. She's grumpy and stiff on cold mornings, has clumps of fur on her backside where she cannot lick herself anymore and when unhappy, tends to venge-poop 6 to 12 feet from the litterbox. But she's in my house, living with me. In fact, I adopted another cat some years later to keep Anna company, because I thought my long work days were making her lonely. Two years after that, MG moved in with his cat Fifi. Three cats in one apartment -- it can be done. It helps if you have a closet or a bathroom to hold the litterboxes, but it can be done.

Would we love to have a dog? Yes. Ideally a big, elegantly-nosed black lab along the lines of MG's beloved Lucy. But labs need space and we live in an apartment. With three cats. And in our weaker moments, we're not so much writers as shut-ins. So, no dog for us just now. And don't even get me started on why we're not hip deep in kids.

Really, it's the seven years that kills me. Anyone can decide that a kitten isn't working out after a week or two, and return the blameless animal in time to place it in a better home. But to hold onto an animal, leading her to trust you, and believe she has a home with you, and then cast her out because she's not as much fun as the rest of your menagerie? Because you like your bright-eyed Jack Russell terrier better? It's more fun to watch Spongebob Square Pants with your kids than clean Alice's litterbox, so what the hell, why not just toss Alice out on her tabby ear?

It strikes me as unforgivably mean, and it leads me to think that the flyer's author was righter than he or she will ever know: Alice does hate her life, or she soon will.