My cat, Sir Whiskers, has it out for me. Every time I vacuum, he bolts from his favorite spot, yowling like a banshee. Today, I decided to confront him. I turned on the vacuum, and there he was, cowering under the couch. “What’s your deal?” I asked. He hissed. Then, out of nowhere, a hairball exploded from his mouth, landing in the vacuum’s path. The vacuum sucked it up, and Sir Whiskers stared at me, eyes wide. “You… you taught me that?” he said. I blinked. “No… but I’m keeping the hairball.” He hissed again, but I think he’s warming up to the idea.
