Downside to owning cats # 754: "It smells like the monkey house in here." - Kirsten, while scoopin'.
Now, I have a problem. Well, I have several problems, some of which are by my own actions. But the problem that I'm going to focus on here is that I own cats.
Not to say that I mind owning cats - honestly, Grace and Josephine (the two feline apartment-dwellers from whom I rent space) are wonderful pets, very loving and sweet. Honest, really, in their feelings. That's more than I can say for a lot of folks I've met. You piss these two off, and they let you know about it, either by biting your toes or simply turning their backs.
I think this passive-aggressive behavior is something they get from Kirsten, but you didn't hear me say that ("I resent that!!" she exclaims).
The downsides and benefits to cats as creatures of domicility aside, the real problem that I have is that my landlord still doesn't know I have cats - and that's a good thing for me. See, my landlord wants a non-refundable pet deposit of $150 dollars per cat, plus 20 bucks a month in pet rent per cat. After doing the math, that comes out to a total of $780, or an additional $65 per month, assuming that I let the landlord know NOW and sign a one-year lease. That, to me, is a LOT of money. Especially since they demand that the cats be spayed, neutered, and indoors all the time to begin with - what damage can a cat like that do to a place anyway? Can two cats really cause 800 bucks in damages?
So I have to keep the pets a secret from the landlord. Fine, no bigs, it's not as if I invite the building manager in for tea on any sort of regular basis. But the problem for me NOW is that I have to have her and a couple of maintenance guys come in and look at my bathroom sink. The darn thing has started to rust, and is casting its oxygenated shavings hither and yon. The tub, too, needs to be resurfaced. Frankly, that's something that should have been done BEFORE I moved in, and I certainly should have noticed the problems when I did the walkthrough. Again, the latter two points are currently moot. The real problem is what to do with the cats?
I guess that the easy, and best, choice is simply to board the cats for a couple of days, when the landlord and the lady are here. But that runs into expenses - not 780 dollars, but it won't be cheap, either.
And that, readers, brings me to my final words for the day:
Damned cats.
Now, I have a problem. Well, I have several problems, some of which are by my own actions. But the problem that I'm going to focus on here is that I own cats.
Not to say that I mind owning cats - honestly, Grace and Josephine (the two feline apartment-dwellers from whom I rent space) are wonderful pets, very loving and sweet. Honest, really, in their feelings. That's more than I can say for a lot of folks I've met. You piss these two off, and they let you know about it, either by biting your toes or simply turning their backs.
I think this passive-aggressive behavior is something they get from Kirsten, but you didn't hear me say that ("I resent that!!" she exclaims).
The downsides and benefits to cats as creatures of domicility aside, the real problem that I have is that my landlord still doesn't know I have cats - and that's a good thing for me. See, my landlord wants a non-refundable pet deposit of $150 dollars per cat, plus 20 bucks a month in pet rent per cat. After doing the math, that comes out to a total of $780, or an additional $65 per month, assuming that I let the landlord know NOW and sign a one-year lease. That, to me, is a LOT of money. Especially since they demand that the cats be spayed, neutered, and indoors all the time to begin with - what damage can a cat like that do to a place anyway? Can two cats really cause 800 bucks in damages?
So I have to keep the pets a secret from the landlord. Fine, no bigs, it's not as if I invite the building manager in for tea on any sort of regular basis. But the problem for me NOW is that I have to have her and a couple of maintenance guys come in and look at my bathroom sink. The darn thing has started to rust, and is casting its oxygenated shavings hither and yon. The tub, too, needs to be resurfaced. Frankly, that's something that should have been done BEFORE I moved in, and I certainly should have noticed the problems when I did the walkthrough. Again, the latter two points are currently moot. The real problem is what to do with the cats?
I guess that the easy, and best, choice is simply to board the cats for a couple of days, when the landlord and the lady are here. But that runs into expenses - not 780 dollars, but it won't be cheap, either.
And that, readers, brings me to my final words for the day:
Damned cats.
posted by Brian at 11:00 PM
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