Molly's Off Her Trolly!

I stayed at my mum's last night because she went away, effectively I was kitten sitting Doris, she gets lonely apparently, but what my mum didn't tell me, until I walked through the door, was that her neighbours had gone away for a week and mum was looking after their house and the cat that lives in it.

So off mum goes to visit her friend for the evening, and off I go to feed next door's cat. Only thing is, this cat doesn't wanna be fed, in fact, this cat doesn't want anything except a valium.

The cat, Molly, hissed and threw a kitty-fit when I walked through the door, but I couldn't just leave it without food or water and with a poop-filled litter tray, so I went about doing these tasks and tried to ignore the terror rising in my stomach.

Finally I finished these tasks, but as I turned to enter the hallway and make a run for the door I realised that Molly, who is completely off her fecking trolly, was blocking it! Uh oh.

I was trapped.
I was trapped for thirty minutes and just about to see if I could climb through the window when the cat finally realised that I had filled it's bowl with food. But for those life-threatening thirty minutes (not my life, Molly's) I had planned my speech to the neighbour of how exactly Molly's life had come to a tragic end, because if I hadn't been able to get through the window, it would have been a case of 'it's me or the cat!'

I went home and told Doris that if she ever became so aggressively grumpy, she'd end up in a stew.

Scary shit.
The End.