The Thousands

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, ‘that’s not a pet, that’s a piece of cardboard’. And yes, it is true, but before you scoff too hard, let me tell you a little something about pets.

I had a real cat once. He was pretty good. Went by the name of Charles, had a lustrous black coat and a scratch that meant business. He fell off chairs all the time, chased feet under the covers, and squished himself into really small spaces. In short, he was amazing. Best cat you ever met. We had some good times, Charles and I. Oh how we laughed! But then I went away for two days over Christmas. That’s 48 hours, give or take. And you know what? The little f*cker left me. Like we’d never shared those special moments with the catnip-infused mouse toy. Like I’d never fed him retardedly expensive cat mince. I haven’t seen him since.

So you can look down at my new cardboard friend, but I’m sticking with it. And if Charles ever comes home, well, I’ll be much too busy frolicking with my new Flat Pet to notice.