He’s just not that pleasant. We’ve adopted him so he’s ours but he has a proclivity for low-level bullying. I just don’t like that kind of behavior at all.

For example, today he sat on the couch and for a moment I was overjoyed. I have fantasies about sitting on the couch and then Honeybear jumps onto the couch and we sit together for a stretch. That’s what Nemesis does. She and I spend a lot of time together just chilling and with the exception of the menopause-related times of overheating, it’s really wonderful time. I deeply appreciate a good cat pal.

Back to the couch—as the only Ditmarston home, I was duty bound to text the other people I live with and give them the couch news. So I sat at the far end of the couch and took a video. I kept the most respectful distance so Honeybear, bless his heart, wouldn’t be agitated. As I’m video-ing, Honeybear coughed up a goddamn lung. He experienced this epic poem, this Iliad of coughing on the couch, on this video and I sit there, adoring him. Then I scooch a little bit near to give him a tiny pet and he jumps off with such a mean look in his face.

Then he totally screws me over!

I start cleaning the cat boxes. We have 3 and they are all horrible, thanks to Honeybear. I finish, dump it all in the garbage bin, and call for Honeybear and lo! he bump, bump, bumps down the stairs. He has just shat in and on the litter box that belongs to Nemesis. What fucking nerve hath this orange furry ruffian!

Also I have to clean the litter box again, so not only has he deliberately violated Nemesis’ territory but he has wasted my time.

I don’t know how I’m going to get along with this guy.