Feces Friday

 Dad had the best cat. It took total control of the farm. One day I was in the shop with dad and tripping over it - so I gave him a gentle punt to get him out from underfoot. I still have the scars from that one. All the local farm dogs were scared shitless of him. He was so miserable, he regularly shat on dad’s tractor seat to assert his dominance. It became standard practice for us to carefully check the seat before sitting on it. If there was a cigar there…you grabbed it and threw it at someone. Mom was exempted from that game because she was an old bitch, and I was let out because I’d pick up the turd and throw it back. When Mom and dad moved into the city the cat was so disgusted with them, that he left and moved in with a little girl down the street. I call BS - I think Pop probly waited till the cat fell asleep and then gooned him with a pipe wrench. But I can’t prove nothin.

With my daughter’s cat, feces were comedic props. He was clean as could be but occasionally he’d crap in my shoe or gun case or something that was mine. He always left the girls alone. For him it was a great big joke! It woulda been funny too…if it happened to someone else.