I got home from D.C. last night to find my fish on the brink of death, my cat with no food or water, her favorite toy in the garbage can, and her shit hanging out in my bathroom garbage can. (Yes, that’s right. Poops all kinds of marinating in my garbage can. Inside my damn house. And even though I left Ella extra food, she houses it while I’m away. What can I say, she’s an emotional eater.)
These are not things I expect to find when you’ve heartily offered to look after my animals.
I know life sometimes happens. I know drastic things occur that prevent us from doing the things we’ve promised to do. But your can’t-get-it-together-for-the-past-15-years sorta/maybe-boyfriend once again not getting it together is not a good enough excuse to let innocent animals go hungry. Nope. I don’t even care if his penchant for expensive art, sterling silver and not having sex with you indicate that he might like men.
Sometimes we all just have to man up and do the things we’ve committed to doing. Because life doesn’t cease to continue when someone has been an asshole to us. The big wheel of life keeps turning. And cat shit will surely smell sourer as the days go by. Good god, y’all.