I was awoken at the ungodly hour of five this morning by my giant, constantly hungry feline, who wouldn’t stop meowing until I got out of bed to feed him. With him always trying to eat people food, and being so obnoxiously loud and furry, I’m starting to suspect that the fur is actually hair and that my little pet is actually a portly squat Italian.
I don’t understand when he speaks, but I don’t understand a lot of Italians either. He’s loud and gives me headaches, just like Italians. He eats directly from the bowl, gets food all over himself, sleeps on the windowsill, and uses a litterbox. All key traits of pure-bread Italians.
He likes Sushi, plays with chopsticks, and is named Wasabi, but that can easily be explained by my bringing him up in a culturally enriching environment. He doesn’t drive a Camaro, but I keep him locked in my apartment all day, so that doesn’t mean anything. He’s stubborn, can’t swim, is amused for hours playing with a laser pointer, and cleanses his entire hairy body with his tongue, all leading me to believe that I’m harboring an illegal from a country shaped like a boot. I’m more than a little afraid of being implicated in something illegal. I think I’ll start calling him Giuseppe and see how he responds.
One more issue. My lease. I know I’m allowed to have cats, but I’m not so certain that my lease has a provision giving me expressed permission to have an Italian. I’d hate to be evicted, or not be given back my security deposit. And if he is indeed Italian, why hasn’t he fixed my plumbing issue in the bathroom? Very fishy… I’ll get to the bottom of this.