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Caturday Pootie Diary: Get a job [1]
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Date: 2022-08-13
“I can take a check or you can use PayPal — “
“I don’t pay for things!” Freddie insisted.
“I think you need to get a job,” I said.
The food unboxed and put away, Freddie and I lounged on the couch together looking at my phone. “What skills do you have?” I asked.
“I can sleep and find patches of sun. I’m good at watching the birds in the feeder. Oh! And I can always get the treats out of the dispenser. I’m also good at sleeping.”
I nodded, seriously, typing into my phone. “You could be a bodega cat,” I said, showing him some pictures.
“What do they do?” he asked.
I frowned at my phone. “I think they sleep on the shelves,” I said.
“I can do that!” he enthused.
I shook my head. “I think bodegas are more of an east coast thing. We have small markets here too, but I’ve never seen a cat inside of one.”
“Okay. Bodega cat is out. What’s next?”
“Ooooh look at this! You could be a library cat!”
“What does a library cat do?”
We flipped through some pictures. “It looks like they sleep on the shelves.”
“I can do that!”
“I go to the library all the time, though, and I’ve never seen a cat there. I bet there are rules against it.”
“But who is going to keep the worms out of the books?” he pouted.
“Worms? Oh! Bookworms? I’m not sure that’s a thing.”
“I’m pretty sure it is,” he insisted.
“Even if it is really a thing, I don’t think they use cats for that.”
“They should,” he said, darkly.
“How about a therapy cat?” I asked.
“What’s that?”
“They comfort people in need. You’d have to let people pet you.”
He frowned. “Strangers?” he asked.
I nodded. “They’d be nice about it, I’m sure.”
He thought about it. “It sounds like a very noble profession,” he said. “But I don’t think I’m cut out for that.”
“It’s probably a volunteer thing, too,” I agreed. “It would be worth your time, but it wouldn’t pay for the Chewy box.”
He sighed.
I let my phone screen go dark. “I think you’re just going to have to work around here,” I said.
“Doing what?”
“Well, the kitchen is kind of like a bodega,” I said, “but there aren’t any shelves to sleep on.”
“I could sleep on the counter!”
“Absolutely not.” I looked over my shoulder toward the bookshelves in the living room. “It’s kind of a library in there,” I said.
He perked up.
“But those shelves are pretty full.”
He deflated. “Finding a career is hard.”
I stroked his fur. “Don’t I know it. I guess you’ll have to be my therapy cat.”
“So I’d let you pet me?” he asked.
“Exactly.”
He stood and stretched [“ooooh, big stretch!”], then jumped off the couch and walked away.
“Wait! You’re supposed to let me pet you!”
“I’m not on the clock,” he called back at me.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! Freddie is still looking for employment, but something will come along. Biden made sure to build a strong economy.
(H/T to Besame for the idea behind this post)
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