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My room mate owns a large orange tomcat named "YZ." That's right, that's its name. I call it Larney. Larney eats my cat's food, shits in my cat's litter box, and sleeps on my bed. I don't want to quarantine my cat to my room, and he refuses to quarantine the orange cat, so I have taken to charging my room mate food and litter expenses. At first, this was a suitable arrangement. I like cats, they're pretty cool. The orange cat was sort of a jerk, but not so much so that I couldn't handle it hanging around. He is the sort of cat who likes to have the last word - he yowls and meows and gurgles until everything is quiet again. He yowls and meows at people until he's let out into the yard, but was fairly tolerable inside the house. This began to change when I bought a new bedspread.

I bought a cream colored bedspread as sort of an indulgence for myself. Now I have a fluffy featherbed, matching sheets and bedspread. I knew I didn't want cat hair all over it, so I took a sheet, folded it in half, and spread it over the bottom half of the bed, where Larney sleeps. For about a month, Larney slept there, on the sheet, like a good animal. Then I went to Detroit on vacation.

When I got back, Larney had taken to sleeping on my pillow, and losing the fights he has with the neighborhood cats. He would come into the house all dusty and fucked up, and sleep on my pillow. The neighborhood cats mark their new territory by pissing on our front door. Larney has also taken up the habit of hissing constantly. I move him off my pillow. He hisses. I put food in his bowl. He hisses. I open the door for him. He hisses. This confuses the hell out of my cat, who used to sleep curled up next to him, cleaning out his ears for him. It pisses me off to no end. The cat hisses and I can't help but take it personally. I won't let the damn thing sleep on my bed anymore, and its personality grows more repellant with each passing day.

My room mate even took it to the vet to see if there was something terribly wrong with the cat. Vet said no, the cat is just moody.

The cat is an asshole, that's what's wrong with it. I hate it, and I wish some old lady would find it outside and take it away with her, she could make clothes for it and dress it up in little bonnets. That would make me happy.

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