My mom has an asshole cat. Heās pushy, standoffish, demanding, hates to be pet, wonāt sit on laps, grumbles and bites other cats. All the typical asshole cat stuff. (Yes, heās healthy and has regular check-ups; heās just a dick.)
I got really sick while house-sitting for my mom last winter. My nose and ears sealed up completely, my chest was congested, my throat cracked, my eyes swelled up and I couldnāt really sleep because my airways kept closing the second Iād lie down. Iād just lie on the couch on a mound of pillows and periodically fall in and out of a daze.
After about three days of this, I snapped alert all of a sudden in the wee hours of morning, choking, unable to inflate my lungs all the way.
My momās asshole cat was huddled down on all fours smack in the middle of my chest, looking horrifically uncomfortable with the situation, PURRING and PURRING like a damn chainsaw.
He cracked an eye to glare at me when I moved to pet him. This doesnāt make us friends, he said.
āGood kitty,ā I croaked, rubbing his cheek with one finger. āNice kitty. Good boy.ā
You stink, he said. You disgust me.
Then he brushed off my finger, shut his eye, hunkered tighter, and kept purring. I fell asleep. I donāt know exactly how long he was there, but it was at least a solid hour.
Even asshole cats will cast heal on you.