There’s a feral cat that comes around. He won’t let me pet him. I put out a bowl of water. He didn’t come. Decided I’d try food. Went to CVS. Found the cat food section and went to pick up the can. It was “Tasty Treats in Gravy.” Some kind I used to buy for Bud. And looking at it, feeling the can in my hand, it was like I was buying it for Bud again. Like I’d go home and Bud would be there. And I’d brush him, and then open up a can of Tasty Treats with Gravy and plop half of it into his bowl and he’d– he loved it, he just loved it. If you give him the whole can he’ll puke on the carpet later.
I couldn’t buy the Tasty Treats in Gravy. I got Fancy Feast. It’s a smaller can. The weight of the Tasty Treats can was too familiar. I’d have to speak to people, hold objects, place them somewhere, take out my credit card. In line holding in the feeling of crying. Ads in your face for makeup. The faces of the clerks. Their thoughts about being there, or about being anywhere but there, about their boyfriends. Behind a guy buying a big lurid color Super Soaker from the seasonal aisle. Wondering where your emotions go.
Getting channeled to the robot self checkout by a girl who has to say exact corporate words to me. Contemplating how she’s told what face to make. What tone of voice to use. It sounds friendly but she tries hard to not sound flirtatious. So men leave her alone. She’s made to talk nice and the effect is she hates me. Robot self checkout but she has to stand next to it. Guide every customer there. Trained what to say to train us to replace her.
The red light gets the Fancy Feast fine. It won’t scan the other thing I’m buying. Hair paste. Before I remembered oh yeah I have to buy cat food. I try five times. She has to take the thing and do it for me. I pay. Remember to wait for your receipt, she says. It’s a CVS receipt that spits out of the ticker for hours. It has BPAs on it, I think every time. Have to duck behind the security guard to get it in the trash. I get out in the parking lot. Get in my car and cry and cry.
delicioustacos 
Even fucking receipts are trying to lower our test. The government needs to give free prescriptions for Gear to men like they do to women who want to be men. May Bud forever live in your heart, man.
This update was boring and stupid.
Tyrone, the black & tan Siamese was about to be homeless. His owner was an elderly gentleman of my acquaintance who was dying and putting his affairs in order. I was the only one he trusted to have Tyrone.
So Tyrone came to me and after the required three days hiding under furniture, he came out one evening and climbed into my lap for some talk, some rubs and a nap.
Tyrone lived to be 14 years old, eight of them with me. He died of heart failure just a month ago. I still have his last few cans on Friskies and an unopened bag of Meow Mix.
Wow
Man this writing you’re doing lately is.. I dunno rejuvenated, maybe?
Reminds me of the stuff from about two years sober or so.
Damn good writing.
Thank you
Happened upon this randomly. Loved it. Can totally relate. Thank you:)
This is really good, I really like the way you wring emotion out of the mundane.
A dog or cat would have to be REALLY desperate to eat this garbage.
Sincerely,
Everything Pet
Kary, TX
SMH
I’m sorry you’re not emotionally intelligent enough to understand this post 🙄
A dog or cat would have to be REALLY desperate to eat this garbage.
Sincerely,
Everything Pet
Katy, TX
This story is so sweet and touching. I have a cat Gracie, who loves the same food. Only eats half the can because she too will puke on the carpet too if given the whole can! Your story made me smile. Thank you.
Dude, you fucked up with Fancy Feast. That cat won’t eat anything else ever again.
Just feed the cat, already! Who cares about puke on the carpet! The best thing to do with grief is channel it into love.
I love this! Miss my cat as well. U never really get over it 😥
thank you for sharing, Fagboy McCrybaby
now go plant some garlic. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dp5fMGNEW9I
or do something masculine like hike across the sierra nevada mountains.
find yourself a tradwife
furry catpets are nice but you can’t fuck em the way you can with a human pussy
a tradwife will curl up to you after, in that post-coital glow, and look up at you with those feline eyes. in that moment the pain of wagecuckery will be a faded memory until the next workday. seek love. attract love. go forth into the future. there is no future with roasties. there is no love with them. just temporary beating-off by using her body. you said so yourself.