5.02.2013

MEOWPOCOLYPSE

This is the story of a girl who cried a river and drowned the whole world cat and the worst roommate ever. I know this link up is about bad pet stories, and I am writing about that, but my ex roommate is part of the story and living with her was like taking care of a pet. Or a colicy baby. Either/or.

Also, this is probably the only time you will hear me cat-bash. But it is warranted.


It was 2009. I was driving down the road in my little red Volkswagen when my roommate, let's call her "L," called me.

"Hey shell, my friend's roommate's brother's girlfriend has this cat, and she needs to get rid of it. Can we take him? She said he's a great cat, and I'll pay for the litter and food. I'll totally take care of him! Is that ok? Let me know because I have to give her a decision in 10 minutes. Ok, talk to you later!"

"I....uhhh...um...." I mumbled into the phone, but she had hung up. I threw my phone in my purse and rolled my eyes, figuring that would be the end of it.

Fast forward several hours later. I walk into my janky old 3rd floor apartment to find a cat named Winslow lying on the floor and looking up at me with his beady little demon eyes. "Uh, what's this thing doing here?" I asked L. "Oh, we got him!! Isn't this exciting?! Isn't he cute? He's a little feisty, but I think he's just scared" she replied with glee, completely unaware I was shooting eye lasers at her. But who was I kidding, I was excited to have a cat. BUT LITTLE DID WE KNOW.

The next few months were hell. PURE HELL. The cat was a demon and destroyed EVERYTHING. . He had his Master's degree in jumping out of secret hiding places to murder your feet and legs and was working on a PhD in scaling doorposts and destroying pillows. He was Lucifer's personal protege. He was the cat I hated more than my chemistry tests.

Winslow 24/7. Except not this polite.

Things only got worse, too.

He loved to hide under the couch or coffee table and then jump out and bite/claw/scale our legs whenever we walked by. L wore a special sweatshirt just to pet him, because he would literally try to eat her arms. I had to keep my door closed at all times, because he would knock things over and claw all my pictures of James and me. Just the pictures of James and me! Even with my door closed, he would scratch and meow and stick his arms underneath the door like a kid begging for food. It was cute/pathetic, so I would inevitably let him in. And his thanks? A good bite on the feet. A chomp when I tried to pet him. A hiss when I picked him up. And he hid under the bed the whole time so there was no getting him out.

There's a time in every cat's day where they go a little crazy; a bit of a witching hour, if you will. Noel's ears will go back, her eyes will bulge, and she'll howl at the ceiling like a coyote. I call her crazy eyes when she gets like this. It only lasts a few minutes, but she'll run halfway up the stairs, howl, then do a few laps around the apartment before she falls back to sleep. But Winslow? He would literally CLIMB THE WALLS. Climb them! He would get a running start and run up the wall and back down, howling the entire time. He would even climb the door posts and would hang there, hissing and howling. He was 100% possessed by a league of demons. L thought it was cute and hilarious; I asked my dad if I could borrow one of his guns.

Not only was the cat a nightmare to live with, but he became my cat against my will. You see, L was a bit flaky. After a few months she stopped buying cat food and litter. She stopped scooping the litter box. She just stopped everything. I wasn't surprised, seeing as how she had been incapable of doing dishes and taking out the trash anyway. It was like pulling teeth to get her to pay rent. I tried to be the nice roommate and take care of everything since she was in a crazy program at school and also working and doing volunteer crap. But I hated the cat, and spending my very little money to keep the demon alive was not ok with me. So I confronted her, but nothing changed. I even tried little experiments where I would REFUSE to clean the litter box (which was HUGE and conveniently placed in the hallway by the door of my room. Not my choice. Every time I moved it, she moved it back there) in hopes she would take matters into her own hands. She never would. I once went two weeks without cleaning it, but the smell was enough to kill me so I finally gave in.

But finally, I had had it UP TO HERE with everything. So when I got home from tutoring one night and L was at work I, um, forgot to close the door all the way when I got home. Within seconds, Winslow was out the door, down the stairs, and out into the wilderness. I pushed the door shut with a sigh of relief and smile on my face. Never in my life had I wished an animal dead, but enough was enough. I went to bed that night happy and relieved and feeling like there was hope in the world. And when L got home that night, I filled her in on my day and said "oh, by the way, the cat ran away not my fault LOL goodnight!"

She was devestated. Why she was upset over a cat that climbed the walls and left scars all over her arms and legs, I'll never understand. All I know is that when I opened my bedroom door the next morning, the little devil was laying right outside, smirking at me. L had gone out and tracked him down. So I spent my last few months in the little apartment of horrors buying the cat food, litter, and taking care of him, all the while having all my belongings and skin destroyed. He clearly wouldn't let me forget I had let him escape. I finally moved out and left the cat to L, convinced she wouldn't be able to handle him alone.

I don't believe in karma, but if I did? This would be the reason why. L moved in with two girls who also had cats. None of them did the dishes, cleaned, took out the trash, or took care of their cats. So she turned into me. We met up for coffee about a year later when I was ready to face her again without pulling her hair out. She apologized for everything and gave me the absolute best news: Winslow had "run away" and gotten hit by a car. She had a tear in her eye at the end of the story as I stifled a giggle.

DING DONG! THE WITCH IS DEAD!



The end.



17 comments:

  1. "oh, by the way, the cat ran away not my fault LOL goodnight!"

    I literally died laughing. Commenting from the grave.

    This sounds like a nightmare. Ugh, cats. Ugh, roommates.

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  2. Oh my good lord you- a woman after my own heart with all this passivr aggressive noncleaning amd movement of litter boxes and letting the cat escape after you got sidled with all the responsibilities. I would so do all of this in a heartbeat so there is no judgement here. God, I wish this link up was themed "shitty shitty roommate situations" because ohh sweet baby Jesus do I have a lot of those.

    Also, what the hell is with witching hour?? My moms cats do that too and my (huge) dog get so utterly terrified he just trembles at my feet.

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  3. Well....I don't even like pets to begin with, there's no way I would have lived through having a pet like that. You're a tougher woman than I am, that sounds thoroughly horrible.

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  4. Oh my god I was laughing so hard. The cat witching hour is true, so true. Our cat is a sleepy thing until those few moments when he just has to run! And then he will hide around the corners of the house and wait for the dog, and then pounces on his face...

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  5. I totally inherited the expense portion of a cat in college, it sucks!

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  6. I dislike cats. Now I am remembering my terrible roommate omg I never want to think about her ever again

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  7. "oh, by the way, the cat ran away not my fault LOL goodnight!"

    Hahaha. Becky just shot me a look from her cube. And "Absolutely (Story of a Girl)" has inspired my 90's Spotify radio extravaganza this morning. It reminds me of trying to get on 23 and riding in Ben Kruder's car.

    Also, I have loved this story forever. Can we discuss Joe, the best/worst/most high-maintenance cat sometime?

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  8. Smella is the queen of running to a random room at top speed. And since our house has wood floors, her galloping echoes, which scares her, so she runs faster.

    Cats are weird. But awesome.

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  9. This was hilarious!! Basement (aka evil cats) are terrifying yet so entertaining!! My cats tend to hop as they dash from one side of our living room to another...it's funny to see. Love this story!!

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  10. Bad roommates are the worst.

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  11. I can't judge you...because when I had roommates and we all thought we needed cats it was quite similar. Except I didn't try to assassinate one...MICHELLE. Hahaha. This is great though.

    Thank you for linking up!! xoxox

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  12. That cat sounds EXACTLY like Isaiah's mom's cat. She is EVIL. Literally evil. She won't let ANYBODY but his mom pick her up and if you try, she scratches and bites you. I've never even tried because if you come within 3 feet of her she crouches to the ground, hisses as loud as she can, does that cat-groan thing (you know, the "I will literally kill you if you move an inch closer to me" noise) and lashes out with her claws. It's AWFUL. His parents say it's because he gave her a bath once (like 10 years ago) and she's never forgotten it, but I'm 100% convinced she is demon possessed.

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  13. Holy cow. That's terrifying. I've only known one animal like that and it was a poodle that would terrorize anyone BUT his owners. Nick almost got his face bit off because the dog acted nice and let him pet him, but once the 5 second grace period was over he was ALL over Nick. (Luckily on a leash so Nick didn't get mauled)

    I also hate horrible roommates. I still have one that refused to talk to me and still does. Women.

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  14. Is it wrong that I feel bad that the psycho cat died? Haha cats scare me. Like I'm terrified of them. I'd die if a roommate moved one in!

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  15. I understand the feeling of secretly hating your roommate and your roommate's pet. I'm so lucky I'm severely allergic to cats...Excuse for life.

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  16. that is....unbelievable!!!!
    dang. terrible story. glad you're free of winslow though.

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  17. My childhood best friend also had a devil cat. I couldn't figure out why she loved the damn cat so much, it hated everyone and everything.

    Your story is appalling! You should have gone on that show with the guy who does the cat behavior analysis stuff. He seriously takes demon cats and makes them nice. It's freaking miraculous.

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