Last week, Laura took her cat to the doctor. A psychiatrist. She and her cat, Günter, had finally agreed that for the sake of the two of them, some family therapy was mandatory.
– I love you, but you licked my mango – she assertively stated, before starting wondering if she was going to be judged for apparently equating love to mangos.
– It wasn’t even that good… – replied Günter, a Capricorn-hearted, german-named cat with an ironically fishy sense of humor.
– I know! – looking at the doctor – this bastard completely ruined it and didn’t even eat it after all! – looking at her cat – Why do you lick things you won’t eat?
– I don’t know that I won’t eat until I have licked, genius.
– See? Are you seeing what I have to put up with, doctor? He has this cute little face, but at night, when nobody’s looking, he walks over my breasts! I can’t breathe, and it hurts like hell!
– Oh, if you don’t appreciate my company, I can very well sleep at the neighbor’s house. She has bigger boobs, you know?
– How dare you?!
– And you could learn a thing or two from me. You have this Pisa Tower for a nose AND you’re always eating rotten chicken.
– It wasn’t rotten!
– Haven’t you seen the News? I told you so! You should’ve trusted me. I told you my nose was more reliable than an FDA approval.But nooo… you didn’t listen. She never listens, doctor. I have to meow my lungs out to wake her up.
– Well, you’ve got a point there; I should’ve listened. As for the meowing…
– Yeah, you’re damn right you should’ve! And you should have seen it, Doctor, she was feeling all smart, eating cardboard mixed with rotten chicken.
– It’s still better than your damn cat food.
– Who buys my damn cat food?
– Sorry, I couldn’t hear.
– I do.
– Thank you.
– But you should stop meowing to wake me up for no reason.
– I was hungry.
– No, you weren’t.
– I wanted company.
– No, you didn’t.
– Well, so I was just singing, then. Ok?! A cat can’t sing anymore? Geez…
– At six o’clock in the morning?!
– Ah! That was revenge. You think I don’t notice that instead of putting in new cat food, you only shook the bowl? You are so cheap.
– Yeah, I am cheap. Your concept of happiness is a room full of boxes! And I made a lovely bed for you, but you’d rather sleep under the sink!
– No but.
– We’re not talking about your husband, dear.
– You have some nerve for a cat with no balls.
– Who had them cut off?
– Sorry, I couldn’t hear.
– I did it, okay? But it was for you own good.
– Oh, sure, of course, it was. We always cut off the balls of the people we love. No wonder you’re so popular. (…) I will never be a father, you know. Not to mention no sex for me either. All the other cats in the neighborhood have balls. How do you think I feel when they parade, all showing off, in front of me? Stealing a fish here, pissing on your imported camellias there. How much fun do I have left? Haven’t you thought about it?
– Looking at it that way, I guess it was a bit cruel. I’m sorry. (….) Oh, dear, I hate fighting with you! You can have my fish tonight, ok?
– Oh, I hate fighting with you too! You’re the best owner in the universe! Can I sleep on top of the TV?
– Now you’re stretching it.