Furry Pussy Love


I took my pussy to have her lady-bits fiddled with the other day. Which means she’ll never have to deal with the pain-in-the-arse that is sex (pardon the pun, if you’re that way inclined) and menstruation. Lucky bitch.

Anywaaaay, being an indoor cat, she’s only been outside once. That was when I took her to the park when she was 10 weeks old.

Beans on a leash

Awww.

So because of this just getting to the vet was a trauma, crossing the road, the cars and trucks and noises and smells scared her to death. Thank fuck I only live three doors away from the vet. Inside the examination room, I had to hold her and try to calm her while the vet put a thermometer up her bum. By that point her whole little furry body was shaking uncontrollably and she sat in my arms silently petrified. How do you explain to a cat that the occasional thermometer up the bum is nowhere near as annoying as a lifetime of sex?

At this point I almost burst into tears from seeing her so scared.

She’s such a silent little thing. So much so that we call her Silent Bob (as in for a nickname, her real name’s Beans). Scaredy Cat on the other hand (you can read about her here and here) could host her own talk show, she’s so communicative. And until that day when Beans was out of the house from 8am till 4pm, I didn’t realise what a presence she was, despite her near muteness. I missed the hell out of her. There was nobody to yell at for ripping the material of the bed base off, no one darting between my legs so much that I end up kicking her across the room and nobody sat on my lap, chest, neck, head or generally just in my vicinity all day while I typed away on this keyboard.

When I brought her the three doors home (more traffic noise trauma), Oprah/Scaredy Cat promptly decided Beans was an alien and wouldn’t let her near her without hissing and swiping left hooks at her (most likely due to the strange smells spritzed on her from a day at the vet). I swear Silent Bob looked hurt, like the rejected kid in the playground.

The next morning I got so much furry pussy love, it was as beautiful as it was annoying, the bulk of this consisting of Beans sitting on my chest and wrapping herself around my neck rubbing her face all over my face for hours. Well it felt like hours. I might be exaggerating.

I feel bad for her. This must be the most boring house for a kitten. She follows me around whenever I move from one room to the next, I’m sure just in case something fun finally goes down. Or there’s food to be had. If I come home with a plastic shopping bag she’ll bound in from the other room, leap onto the kitchen bench and stick her head in it, checking out each of the contents. Yes, yes, sniff sniff, good, ok done, you may now put them wherever you like. She’s even learnt how to open the toilet door and comes in to look into the bowl, like when I’m on it, just in case something fun goes down??

Her favourite toy right now is a scrunched up brown paper bag with string tied around it. If I pick it up, she’s so excited she actually screeches. It’s almost the only time she verbalises. And when I’ve had enough, she grabs the string herself and walks it around the apartment like it’s her pet dog. Poor bored thing.

photo (9)

I’ve never had an indoor cat before, so this whole litter box makarkey is a new horror to me too. Obviously I’m doing it all wrong because this morning as I was shoveling her shit into a bag, Beans sat there watching. I’d take out some poo and make it all smooth again (the litter, not the poo) and then she’d lean over and fix it. Scrape scrape scrape. Is it wrong I thought that was really cute.

Today I have to take her back to the vet for a progress check up. I’d better clear my unemployed bum schedule for another furry pussy love session tomorrow.

There’s worse ways to spend a morning I guess.

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