a youthful Gerard Butler, aged 3
The other day someone told me that my cat, Gerard Butler, may live to be twenty-five years old. My cat, Gerard Butler, is a Siamese mix and apparently this brand of cat is especially known for its longevity. Although I am sure it would upset Gerard Butler to know this, I have to admit that I was not looking for this kind of commitment when I first set my eyes upon my cat, Gerard Butler, at a sidewalk kitten adoption center that I stumbled onto after a leisurely brunch with out of town friends at La Med in Berkeley. I don't actually like La Med all that much. They put mint in everything, but that is beside the point. The point is that there was just all of a sudden this adorable little kitten with big blue eyes staring out at me from his collapsible wire cage. Gerard Butler's deadbeat dad and I decided we had to have him, right away. After releasing our names, dates of birth, social security numbers and other vital stats to the adoption liaison, we were allowed to sign a contract in our own blood that swore we would love and cherish our cat, Gerard Butler, for his entire natural life. (I feel compelled to mention, at this point, that the informational leaflet about kitten care stated that Gerard Butler might live to be sixteen, maybe even seventeen. If you ask me, 'sixteen' is not and will never be the same thing as 'twenty-five.')
Obviously, we sort of lost our heads. But that is one of the perils about cohabitation without getting married or having kids. There is this weird urge to establish domesticity in some other, pet-owning, way. Gerard Butler's deadbeat dad is a case in point. Not only is he Gerard Butler's deadbeat dad, he also has fathered a dog and another cat at various points in his adult life. Needless to say, both of Gerard Butler's half-siblings are also living with their mothers. I am thinking that the next time Gerard Butler's deadbeat dad feels the urge to shack up with a lady friend, they should probably just get a gerbil to symbolize their deep commitment to each other. Or maybe a house plant. Preferably something that is difficult to care for and dies quickly.
The real issue here, however, is of course the huge financial burden I am going to be carrying on my shoulders as I shepherd my cat, Gerard Butler, through twenty-five years of life. As it is, my cat, Gerard Butler, is somewhat pampered. For example, Gerard Butler does not eat Friskies. Instead he feasts daily on Iams Indoor Formula. He gets a new toy every time I go to the pet store. Also, Gerard Butler is and has always been a Tidy Cat, not a Johnny Cat. This level of care costs money, none of which is being provided by Gerard Butler's deadbeat dad. I may actually have to insist that my cat, Gerard Butler, interrupt his pampered lifestyle long enough to go out and get himself a part-time job. My cat, Gerard Butler, is after all extremely attractive. Maybe he could pose for cat calendars or something. Anything to defray the cost of his expensive flea treatments.
Really, what Gerard Butler really needs in his life right now is the firm hand of a father figure to help him correct some of his behavior problems that are causing my cat, Gerard Butler, to be very, very annoying. Any potential father figure is welcome to have him. At the potential father figure's house. Still, I love my cat, Gerard Butler, very much. Here's to twenty-two more years of my cat, Gerard Butler!