Alright, finally getting more into it. Less preamble, more stories! This week looking at something from artist Zombiesmile. I’m hoping to do something that has a bit more of a lighter tone since let’s face it, the first few of these have been pretty dark.

drowning_in_pussy_by_zombiesmile-dahr6ln(Drowning in Pussy by Zombiesmile)

‘Well. I guess this is my life now.’ I thought, completely surrounded on all sides by felines.

Living in a new town meant that for the longest time I didn’t have a job. No job means no money, and whoever said mo’ money mo’ problems clearly hasn’t had a bank account with less than fifty bucks in it on average. But after a few weeks and an entire tree’s worth of resumes with no responses, I decided to try my hand at being an entrepreneur. I know the market usually gets cornered by kids looking for sugar money but it seemed that the lemonade stand industry was booming at the moment and not a lot of people were pet sitting. So seeing my chance, I took it. Being allergic to dogs I decided to throw my lot in with man’s moody housemate instead.

It started slow at first. A few old folks with their overfed cats who paid well enough for me to eat actual people food for the first time in a while. The other moggies were nice enough as well. They didn’t eviscerate anything, barely coughed up any hairballs and my curtains have somehow remained scratch-free. I guess word of mouth spreads fast as my house started to fill up with cats.

I carefully maneuver around all the wriggling felines, having to separate a pair of them that were fighting as I walked to the kitchen. I open the cupboard and pull out a bag of cat food so heavy I can barely hold onto it. I really need to start working out. I close the cupboard door and look back into my living room. Every single one of the cats is standing at attention, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to feed you, just give me a- whoa!”

As I was making my way through the kitchen I had tripped over one of the weightier cats that I take care of. I call her Doorstop. She certainly stopped me as I pitched forward and landed flat on the kitchen floor, the bag of catfood spilling out over the floor. The horde of fur tiptoes around their fallen giant to make sure he’s okay before helping clean up the food that was spilled everywhere. I sigh into the kitchen tiles. Two months of doing this and I still forget about Doorstop.

The sound of purring is like a constant thrumming in my house. It drowns out the noise the neighbours make, but I’m starting to find silence a bit disconcerting. I wonder if I’m becoming a crazy cat person as I roll onto my back, noticing that I am surrounded entirely by cats of all types. A kitten Mrs Daphne has me taking care of while she gets her hip replacement takes a seat on top of my head as all the other cats settle down on top of me. It’s a case of full body cat paralysis. It’s entirely impossible to move. I close my eyes. I might as well accept my fate.

As I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling with the gentle thrum of purring surrounding me, I closed my eyes and gave a small sigh. I probably wasn’t going to be moving for a while. For some weird reason that didn’t bother me at all.

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