When I was in high school, one of my friends had some German exchange students and she was certain they were plotting to convert her to Nazism. Time and time again, she’d hear them say “Jennifer” followed by “da Hitlerstein”. But what could she do? If she kicked them out on their Hitler lovin’ asses, her mom would have been seriously pissed off. And of course then it would have then turned out that “Jennifer da Hitlerstein” is a German phrase meaning “beautiful American girl who doesn’t remind us of Hitler- at all”, and she would have felt like a complete jerk.

Which brings me to my current problem… I’m pretty sure my cats are talking shit about me behind my back. Whenever I walk into a room, the aforementioned fur balls instantly freeze in their play and look at me with big guilty eyes. I don’t know. Perhaps the outfit I wore to work yesterday was a little thrown together but we all have our off days and sorry not everyone can sport the same PETA approved fur coat every day. Those smug little bastards.

To make matters worse, I also think they’re getting themselves into trouble while we’re at work. Snowball (cat #1) has been wearing some really dangly earrings lately so I’m worried she might be a whore. And Fluffy (cat #2), well she’s certainly a drug mule. I keep finding little blobs of cat nip on her nose and we never have any plastic bags in the house…

But what to do? An intervention, perhaps? Not a bad idea but first I need to figure out how I can get all up in their furry little faces without getting my eyeballs clawed out.

Like if you’re holding an intervention for your best friend and he comes in sporting a baseball bat with a “Hey guys, what’s up?”, you’re probably thinking “No worries, the crack isn’t going to kill him for a year or two. “

Sure the cats have got those big green eyes but the minute you bring up the drugs, well that’s when things get Pet Cemetery scary…