The internet has lied to me again.
Seven years ago, I agreed to home a stray cat. Steven and I named him Mr. Tiddles. Since I am not funny, clever, talented, or attractive, I assumed this animal would be my last chance at fame. It has happened to numerous cat owners before, so why not me? Why couldn’t I post pictures and videos of its antics online and then bathe in its stardom vicariously like a dance mom or Kardashian?
Standing in line at Petco next to a puddle of what I hoped was dog urine, I clutched the essential supplies for a new cat owner while daydreaming about special appearances on nationally televised morning news programs and book deals. It seemed so easy, why didn’t I think of this before?
As the months passed, the cat proved to be more worthless than an Adam Sandler movie (and equally as amusing). Instead of bearing the gift of undeserved popularity, it lounged around the apartment like a cyst, licking its crotch, clawing the furniture, and eating my plants. Cat ownership was not unfolding as I had imagined.
Believing that Mr. Tiddles was broken, I adopted another. Despite Steven’s protest, I named him Blind Murphy. Certainly a handicat would garner the attention of the cat-loving masses. I anticipated single women over 40 all across the world squeeing over stories of his tribulations and canonize me as its savior. This, too, never happened.
As of today, I am on my fifth cat and am still awaiting the day any one of them will garner the attention of a Hollywood agent. Hell, by now I’ll settle for a spread in the local newspaper. Something!
Allow me to provide an example of my frustration. The video below is currently making its round on social media:
Funny, right? Now watch what happens when I attempt to mimic this video starring the newest handicat in my “talent” pool, Zoe:
Like many actors, she will not cooperate. I’ve shown her the original video. She knows what she’s supposed to do, but apparently she’s adamant about her own vision. Either that, or she simply chooses not to cooperate. I just can’t work with attitudes like this.
Internet fame is serious business. If my dream doesn’t launch soon, this enterprise will collapse. If that happens, I’ll have no choice but to re-evaluate my business plan and initiate a local feline cat prostitution ring so I can afford Blind Murphy’s $60-a-bag cat food that treats his messy shit splatters.
Oh, and if you are wondering if all cats trip balls when they have their teeth brushed like the cat in the first video, the answer is no. No they fucking don’t.