So my cat is a moron. A MORON. "Oh that isn't nice to say about a poor little animal, Michelle!"
I know. But she is. A MORON to be precise.
Smarties, the moron cat, has gone into heat and has found herself incredibly attracted to... "Another male cat in the neighborhood?", you ask, "But it's ill fated because he is neutered?
"Another Ken doll?"
"Your pillows again?"
"How about a stuffed turtle? Is she writhing about in the hallway in ecstasy with a stuffed turtle, Michelle? Well is she? Eh???"
No, Readers. But thanks for asking.
Smarties has found a new object of affection to throw her sack of disgusting, trampy, desperate cat bones around at. To... saunter casually past and then ready herself into "the position" in case her heart's desire should requite her affections and become wild with passion for her.
It's futile for poor, confused Smarties, though. She is a star crossed lover. Poor, lonely Smarties.
She's hitting on the dog; the 4 month old, female, golden retriever puppy. I SWEAR IT. Moron.
I made this movie over the course of the past two days to prove it. Sit back, relax and enjoy this awesome romantic comedy:
That's right. My cat is a pedophile.
Don't be jealous of my life.