My Pussy Is Reinvigorated

Everything is stupid, and so are we. Welcome to Jezebel’s Stupidest Summer Ever, a season-long celebration of our worst, most idiotic thoughts and opinions.

The first week was hard for both of us; here we are, at the beginning of the second and everything has changed.

I am no longer briefly terrified of the skinny wraith that emerges from the depths of my bedroom when it’s eating time. The fur on Daisy’s body no longer has the comb marks left from the groomer’s firm touch. The boy cat has stopped trying to use her blush brush of a tail as a cat toy; the animus is gone. From certain angles, the cat resembles her old self—rotund, regal, resplendent in dander. In behavior, she is a new woman, full of the confidence she has clearly been seeking for years.

One very hot afternoon, I walked past the dining table and saw my cat assertively bopping the boy cat on the nose with a paw. He screamed; I laughed. She hissed like a broken vacuum cleaner, then ran to the gloom of the hallway, mouth agape, silently screaming in joy.

Regrets: None at this time.

Lingrering questions: Now that my cat has confidence, does this mean she’s an asshole forever? When will her fur return home from war?