Revenge is sweet

 
Titus felt as though his head was exploding, light blazed through the swollen slits that were his eyes. He couldn’t contain the pained moan that slipped past his split, bloodied lips.

“Lie still”, a voice thundered, causing a new round of unbearable pain to erupt between his eyes.

Battling against the pain, Titus pried his eyes open. At first he thought he’d lost his sight, something the confused him seeing as how every other beating he’d endured had left him in agony but without lasting damage. At least without lasting physical damage. It’s difficult to destroy an eternal body.
Slipping his tongue out between his ragged teeth, he gingerly licked his bloody lips. The metallic tang of blood mixed with a saltiness that he took to be sweat. He laid perfectly still, waiting for the pain to subside enough to move, unaware of the blood tinged tears that coursed from his blackened eyes.

Suddenly warmth enveloped him. He felt himself rise into the air only to be slammed back to earth. He held his breath waiting for the pain to return only to be pleasantly surprised when it didn’t. Gingerly opened his eyes once again. The light wasn’t quite as blinding and he took a quick glance at his surroundings.

Not recognizing this place, he wondered if Lucifer had come up with a new and creative torment to drive him out of what was left of his mind. Closing his eyes again, Titus resigned himself to the fresh hell he just knew awaited him.

“Open your eyes chicken shit, we need to have a talk.”

His eyes slammed open at the insult. He didn’t recognize the voice, but the words were oddly familiar.

Sitting up he once again stared around him. He was in the middle of a large, empty room. Sunlight streamed through the windows that lined one wall, beyond them trees swayed in a light breeze and birds flitted from branch to branch.

Titus was so stunned by the peacefulness of the scene that he didn’t notice the figure leaning against the opposite wall until the man cleared his throat.

“Titus, do you know who I am?”, the man asked.

Ever on guard, Titus sprang to his feet and landed in a fighting stance. And unfamiliar feeling crept down his spine and it took him a few seconds to realize it was fear. He, Titus the greatest warrior of his time, was frightened.

“Calm down, idiot. If I wanted to harm you I would have left you with that fucktard, Lucifier.”

At once Titus realized that standing before him was the one being he had been hunting for weeks. The reason for the latest torture he had endured leaned against the wall, his ankles crossed and his arms relaxed at his side.

Titus began to laugh. He laughed until he was weak in the knees and when he collapsed to the floor he continued to laugh. He laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks and his bladder screamed for relief.

Death sighed, he’d seen this reaction before. Usually it was from hapless souls that realized they were forever doomed to roam the world or were headed in a direction they hadn’t counted on. The sudden end to warrior’s life usually caused them to reflect, but Titus wasn’t just a warrior. He was a demi-god. Of course he didn’t realize that, the minions of evil had taken great pains to keep that information from him. It was time to enlighten him.

Death smiled and waved his hand, a luxurious chair appeared out of thin air. Seating himself, Death patiently waited until Titus managed to get himself under control. Of course when Titus’ laughter diminished to hiccups, he turned and saw Death sitting in a crushed velvet recliner and began to wail with laughter again.

Time passed, the minutes bled one into another as Titus wailed with laughter. Soon the laughter turned to tears and the tears to sobs. Ashamed, he tried to hide his face, but Death quietly crossed the room and wrapped his arms around the much larger man. As the waves of emotion assaulted Titus, the tears turned to anger, the anger to sorrow and the sorrow to wonder. Here he sat, sprawled on the floor of a strange room, wrapped in the arms of the most feared creation ever. Death was comforting him.

When Titus calmed, Death eased away from him and returned to his recliner. Kicking the footrest up, he sighed as he sank into the velvet softness of his favorite piece of furniture. Waving his had absently, he caused another chair to appear, along with a table loaded with food and drink.

“Help yourself. You’re going to be here a while and I want you comfortable. Just wake me if I doze off, I am wore the fuck out!” Death closed his eyes and relaxed. He knew he had Titus just where he wanted him, and now he could take a well-earned nap.

Titus looked around, the room had no doors and the only furniture were the two chairs and the table burdened with food. The odor of venison tempted him, venison was always his favorite food and since he’d lost his soul he had been denied even the smell of it. Not caring if this was a test or a dream, Titus crossed the room and load a plate with some of the most succulent food he had ever seen. Sitting down in the matching recliner, he ate until he couldn’t contain one more morsel then he closed his eyes and drifted off into the first peaceful rest he had experience in thousands of years.

Death opened his eyes at the change in Titus’ breathing. Seeing the man relaxed and comfortable, he realized that what he was doing would not only put a target on his own back, but it would place Titus directly in the line of fire.

Pausing at the thought of this man suffering more than he already had, Death heaved a sigh. He knew what must be done, he had no doubt that there would be casualties, he just hoped Titus wouldn’t be one of them.

Shaking his head, he waved his hand above Titus’ sleeping form. Chuckling, he sent the image to Lucifer along with a message.

“He’s mine now. I gave him back his soul. Soon he will know exactly who he is. Do NOT fuck with me Lucy, you will NOT win!”

The very rafters of hell shook with Lucifer’s fury.

Memories and blood

“What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Mean. You have no idea?” Lucifer’s tone would have stopped Titus’ heart if the shriveled thing still beat. As it was, Titus just winced at the volume and menacing quality of the sometimes but not all the time Demon’s voice. He knew it would blow over and everything would get back on track.

Or else it wouldn’t.

Either way, Titus didn’t much give a shit. Having toiled in the service of Lucifer and his father Satan for the last two thousand years hadn’t been much fun, so if either (or both) of them decided it was time to end his existence, then so be it. Actually he hoped one or the other of them would end his existence, he was tired of being the target for all the father-son angst that had been boiling for the last three hundred years.

“I mean I haven’t found them. No one has seen or heard from either of them, the Hellhounds can’t pick up a scent and the Seer is about as useless as Medusa’s tits.” Titus deadpanned his answer, knowing it didn’t matter what he said, nothing would sooth Lucifer’s anger. It didn’t help that both of them were hung over from the massive about of drinking they had done the day before. You’d think being dead, or undead or whatever, would protect one from suffering from a hangover, but NOOOOO, Satan, being the massive bastard that he is, made sure there was a loophole in that particular set of rules.

Surprisingly Lucifer burst out laughing. NOT what Titus expected.

“Medusa’s tits!” Lucifer gasped then roared with laughter once again.

Titus stood by, perplexed and more than a little worried. Had Lucifer finally cracked up? Had the stress of being the second most evil creature in all of creation finally gotten to him? Or was he still drunk from last night?

One could hope. Although an insane Lucifer could possibility be worse than a slightly less insane Lucifer (which was what he had to deal with now).

“Sit down, sit down.” Lucifer had finally gotten his mirth under control enough to speak. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a prick, it’s just this whole thing with that fucker Death is really, really getting to me!”
Titus sat wide-eyed and gaping. Never in all his time in Hell nor with Lucifer on the Earth had he EVER heard the evil one apologize. He was sure that his time was at an end, that was the only explanation for the son of Satan’s laughter and apology.

“Shut your mouth, you look like you’re about to vomit or something.” Lucifer smiled, which, in Titus’ opinion was worse than Lucifer yelling. “Which, after the amount of whiskey we drank, is a very real possibility. Anyway, you just caught me off guard with that whole Medusa’s tits thing. Now that was funny!”

A slightly more insane giggle followed. Titus felt himself tighten up, sure that a killing blow would be next.

He was surprised when Lucifer rocked back in his big leather chair and, crossing his legs, put his feet on the desk and began to talk to him as though they were best of friends. Could this day get any more bizarre?

“I knew Medusa, you know. Before the whole fucked up hair thing got started that is. She was a beautiful woman, big brown eyes, amazing full lips and a tongue so talented that it should have been insured. She was something else, let me tell you. And her tits? Full and round, about the size of a ripe grapefruit. She has the most luscious nipples, they were pink, actual baby pink, not that shitty pinkish brown that most women have. They would fill your hands and spill out just the slightest bit. Damn!”
Lucifer had a faraway look in his eyes, one that scared Titus more than the insane laughter of a few moments ago. An insane Lucifer was one thing, but a horny one was worse. Particularly given the fact that he wasn’t too picky about where he stuck his demon dick. Titus did NOT want to add being Lucifer’s butt-buddy to his growing list of duties.

“Of course,” Lucifer continued, “she was a cunt of the highest order. Greedy and jealous, vain and cold. She thought nothing of screwing anyone, and I mean ANYONE, if it got her what she wanted. And the fact that she had the libido of a bitch dog in heat didn’t help matters much. She was something else alright. Right up until she decided to fuck not only the husband of a jealous Goddess, but her son, her brother AND her father as well. That didn’t sit well with the Goddess, hence the snakes and the freaky eyes and such.”

“But still, Medusa was one of a kind.” Lucifer sounded almost sad. “I sure miss her.”

Titus sat perfectly still, he was so stunned and confused he couldn’t have moved if he had wanted to. There was something strange going on today, and not knowing what it was scared the living (or not) shit out of him.

Could Evil, with a capital E and all that stood for, go insane? Could the bright and shining Morning-star of Hell be certifiable? The ramifications were too frightening to consider.

Perhaps it was a hangover. Hopefully.

Finally trusting his voice, Titus cleared his throat and said, “You knew Medusa? The real Medusa?”
Knowing he sounded like an idiot Titus expected to be knocked across the room for his insolence. Bracing for the blow, he was amazed when he heard a low chuckle. Daring to raise his eyes, he looked across the looming desk to see Lucifer once again smiling.

“Oh yeah, I KNEW her in every sense. She was spectacular. I thought for sure she was going to join us in our little battle with the Heavens, but she couldn’t keep her legs, or her mouth for that matter, closed long enough to be any good to anyone for long. Don’t get me wrong, she was GOOD at what she did, but not in any real meaningful way. She fucked up, she paid the price. It is a shame that Jason cut off her head before the curse wore off though. Medusa wouldn’t have been that hideous snake thing for much longer, but that’s how the cookie crumbles I guess.”

Titus stared, dumbfounded. Surely something had happened to Lucifer. This was NOT the evil, manipulative bastard that usually sat behind a desk and destroyed entire nations on a whim. This Lucifer was different, almost kind, and that scared Titus more than anything had in the last two centuries.

Titus wasn’t sure if he should say anything or just let Lucifer go on about whatever entered his mind. Before he could build up enough courage to ask, Lucifer stilled, sat straight and stared directly at Titus.

If Titus hadn’t been scared shitless before, the look on Lucifer’s face would have done it. Sitting as still as a statue, Titus wondered what would happen next. So far this day had been like something out of the Twilight Zone (Titus LOVED that old show) with the only thing missing being Rod Sterling’s voice. Too bad Lucifer couldn’t outright kill him, but with Satan holding his soul, Titus was at the mercy of whatever twisted punishment could be thrown his way but couldn’t count on the sweet release of death.

Lucifer shook his head, let out a huge sigh and leaned back in his chair once again.

“Ah”, he said, “there will never again be times like those. We knew who our enemies were back then, now I have no idea whose side anyone is on. Not even you Titus. Whose side are you on, huh? Does dear old Daddy still pull your strings or does your loyalty lie with me?”

Titus was unsure of how to respond. Both he and Lucifer knew that Satan owned Titus’ soul, but the old man hadn’t been much interested in what Titus was or was not doing. The last thousand years had weighed heavy on the King of Lies, and his one and only son, Lucifer, had taken over the business so to speak.

Clearing his throat, Titus formulated the only answer he could, given the situation.

“You know as well as I do”, he began, “your Father holds my soul in his hand. He can compel me to do whatever he wishes whenever he wishes to do so. I have no say in that. I serve you because I must, just as I must serve your Father.”

Lucifer laughed.

“Way to go, Titus. Answer a straightforward question with a roundabout reply. I KNOW who owns your soul!! Do you think I’m stupid?” Lucifer’s eyes blazed red and the hair on his head began to move as though caught in a wind storm. “DO YOU?”

Titus jumped to his feet and bowed low.

“No, master. I do not think you are stupid. You asked for my allegiance, knowing that my allegiance is no more mine to give than my soul is mine to keep. I do what I must, and if you want to punish me for that then there is nothing I can do but suffer for your pleasure.” Titus hated to grovel before anyone, but to grovel before this being was worse than anything he had ever had to do. At least Satan was always in his true form, he never hid behind the trapping of mankind in order to do his work. Lucifer, however, took great pleasure in the fooling mankind into thinking he was one of them.

Titus despised him.

An invisible lash struck Titus, shredding his shirt and cutting his much scared back to ribbons. Lucifer’s laughter thundered in the room, rattling the windows and blowing papers off their surfaces.

“YOU FORGET, SLAVE. I AM MY FATHER’S SON. YOUR EVERY THOUGHT IS OPEN TO ME IF I SO DESIRE. YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR INSOLENCE, AND THEN YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR UMBRAGE. YOU ARE NOTHING AND YET YOU DARE JUDGE ME! YOU WILL LEARN, OH YES, YOU WILL LEARN.”

Liquid fire swam though Titus’ body, every nerve ending blazed with agony and blood pooled around his feet. Lucifer cackled as Titus’ convulsed in agony. Again and again the pain flared until Titus sank to his knees to finally fall into a pool of his own blood.

Sweet, sweet darkness enveloped him as maniacal laughter rang in his ears.

Oranges and raw meat

 
While Lucifer and Titus drank themselves into a stupor, More E. Poorbitch struggled with a quandary of her own. Her very existence depended on being of use to the black heart creatures that owned her soul. She should have listened to her Momma, that old bitch was one of the most intelligent people More had ever met. Momma always said to nothing in this world was free that everything had a price, and she said always read the fine print, no matter what, read the fine print, if it’s too good to be true it probably isn’t.

More regretted not listening. It was in the fine print of her ‘contract’ with Satan that she would live forever, of course it didn’t say what condition she would be in or whether or not she would live in this plane, just that she would live forever. If she had read the fine print, like Momma said you always should, she would have realized that when Satan says you will live forever it usually means you will live as a slug in the garden of Hell.

That’s what she was, a slug, a fat, ugly, slug.

But if she could find that bitch Lisa and turn her over to Satan, maybe she could live as something other than a slimy, fat, white blob. The only problem was that no one could find Lisa. Lucifer had all of his minions out looking for the little ghoul, and Satan had called out the big dogs, literal hell dogs that could find anything. But none of them could find that little bitch. Death had her in his clutches and was hiding her with all the powers of his office.

Death was difficult to deal with and impossible to fool. Satan had his work cut out for him.
Too bad Lucifer was such a shit since his daddy had gotten her soul. It was basically her lust for his son that made her Satan’s little slug. Lucifer was tall, dark and handsome as well as deranged and cruel. She hadn’t known the deranged part when she began to pursue him, she only knew the handsome and sexy as hell part. Unfortunately she ended up as Hell’s slug before she could see just how sexy.

Oh well, it is what it is. She just needed a hint as to where that stupid bitch was hiding. Maybe that freaky fuck Fred had some idea, but it didn’t seem likely. Lucifer and her were locked up in his office for hours on end yesterday and still no word on the whereabouts of Lisa.

There had to be someone that knew Death intimately. HE was a good looking enough little dude, and he’d been alive, if that was what you call it, for centuries, so he had to have some relationship with some woman…..or man….or goat, whatever. The problem was to find that someone or thing.
More E. had always been good at problem solving, at least if it was someone else’s problem and not her own. She was about to put that particular talent to work, and in the process she could solve her own dilemma as well.

While More E. Poorbitch pondered the how and where of little Lisa and Death’s location, Lisa was enjoying the sunshine for the very first time in years. Laying on a lounger on the patio of Death’s beautiful mansion, Lisa stretched, closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of warm sunlight on smooth skin.

For the last forty years she had missed the warmth of sunlight. Dead tissue and warm sunlight was never a good mixture, no matter how much living tissue one imbibed, sunlight would make dead things bloat, and bloating was never her favorite thing to do. Not to mention the exploding thing, that was just gross.

But now, with her pulse and pink skin, well she could soak up rays to her heart’s content! Or until Mitch, the spoilsport, made her go back inside. She was tired of being trapped in the cavernous mansion with no television, no computer and no visitors allowed. It seemed as though being Death for years had prevented Mitch from knowing how to relax. Or have fun. He’d actually yelled at her when he caught her humming and dancing around the marble foyer. Death was, by all accounts, a real downer.

He’d left a few hours earlier to ‘fulfill his office’ as he liked to call it. In other words he was either luring some poor soul to their untimely end or collecting those who had passed in his absence. Either way, there would be souls passing form this realm to whatever lay on the other side. She had never seen the ‘other side’, so she had no idea what that meant, she had never experienced the ‘eternal rest’ that was promised to humans when the last breath left their bodies. She was returned to a semblance of life by dark magic, magic that even now searched for her.

The thought that someone, something, was searching for her was enough to darken her bright mood. Suddenly the sun didn’t feel quite so warm and the wavering trees in the distance took on a menacing aspect. Here she was, enjoying herself as though it was simply another warm summer’s day when in reality today could be the last day of her oh so brief new life.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she stood for a moment squinting against the bright sunlight in search of anyone, anything that might be out there. Death had promised her that no one could find her here, he had told her that ‘here’ didn’t actually exist to the outside world and that no one other than himself and those he chose to help could come and go from this place.

She wasn’t so sure.

Turning from her search of the trees, she shuddered and quickly entered the huge mansion that was her new home. Walking to the kitchen she was once again stunned by the fact that she could eat anything she wanted now, not just raw and sometimes squirming meat. A smile blossomed on her face as she picked up a ripe orange and began to peel it, regardless if this was the last day of her new life, she was going to enjoy it to the fullest.

Silent killer

You know those post on Facebook, the ones about diseases you can’t see and not to judge folks until you walk a mile in their shoes?  If you’re like most people, you get tired of seeing them and after a while simply scroll past them to something more entertaining.  Does that make us indifferent?  Uncaring?  Hard-hearted?

No, it makes us human.

You see, I deal with some of those “invisible diseases”. Fibromyalgia tormented me for years, it caused my life to literally be a living hell filled with mind numbing drugs that did little to control the pain or to improve the weakness in my limbs.  Then I went “off track” to a holistic doctor who told me to begin swimming every day (I was staying someplace where I could do that on a daily basis, not like living here and not having access to a pool) and maybe do some gentle yoga.  The combination of both had an amazing effect on my life and on my health.  I was weaned off the drugs and to this day I manage my fibromyalgia without them.  Unfortunately I don’t swim as much as I should, but the yoga remains a mainstay in my life.  It’s been almost 9 years now and I still do at least a 15 minute routine a day.  And I am still pain free!!

Too bad there isn’t some “magic” fix for depression though.   You see, I have suffered with depression my entire life.  When I was young I had no idea there was anything wrong with me, I thought everyone felt the way I do.  Then, as I grew older and the depression grew deeper, I attempted to take my own life.  Yeah, I know, selfish, stupid, thoughtless.  I’ve heard and thought all of that and more.  But I was lucky, I survived and received treatment.  I learned how to “deal” with the darkness that sometimes descends, and I maintained a level with medication.  Luckily I don’t need the meds all the time, but when I do I gladly take them.

But with the meds come the side effects.  The shitty taste in my mouth, the way food has no taste at all, the way I am always thirsty and, being as sensitive to drugs as I am, the horrible side effect of being shot into mania without any warning at all.  So I have learned a lot of ways of “dealing” with the darkness, the apathy, not wanting to leave my house, not wanting to talk to people…..unfortunately dealing is all I have ever done.

Lately I have been “down” as people like to say.  I have been depressed.  I haven’t left the house, I haven’t talked to many people, I don’t want to go anywhere that involves dealing with other people and their problems.  Hell, I don’t want to deal with my own.

I have become very adapt at putting on a smile when I would rather hide under a rock.  As a matter of a fact, the large majority of people that know me have no idea that I don’t want to see them or talk to them, hell, most days I don’t want to get out of bed.  I don’t want to eat, I don’t want to do anything but sit in the silence and cry.

Living alone makes it easy to withdraw without people noticing.  If  you do it a little bit at a time people get used to not seeing you around, or talking to you on the phone as much as they used to.  Hell, if you’re creative, and I AM creative, you can continue to fool people by acting like  you are in the midst of some creative endeavor.  If you want the truth, being depressed seems to be a way of life for creative people, so many of us keep it so well hidden that not even those closest to us realize.  Just take a second and think about how many actors, painters, singers, writers, photographers and comedians have either died of a drug overdose (self medicating) or outright committed suicide.  Seems like the more talented they are, the more CREATIVE they are the quicker they burn out, become addicted to drugs/alcohol or kill themselves.

Unless……..

They learn to “deal” with their illness, deal with the symptoms.

Oh yeah, the symptoms?  We all have our own take on them.  Mine usually starts with sleeplessness.  Not insomnia exactly, just not being able to sleep because I feel like shit.  My muscles ache and I can’t concentrate on anything.  Reading, one of the things I love to do, becomes work simply because I can’t remember what I just read.  Watching tv is impossible, every single show irritates me.  And the anger, the anger is indescribable.  Everything make me mad, or irritated, or cranky.  Nothing seems to be enjoyable.  And that makes me angry, food doesn’t taste as good, music doesn’t sound as good, and my humor disappears in a black hole of “who gives a fuck?” because I certainly do NOT.

Then there are the crying jags.  Oh, yes, they are fun.  NOT.  Bursting into tears for no reason at all, no song playing in the background that takes me back to a better time, no argument with a loved one, no death, no horrible accident taking place in front of me.  Hell, yesterday I lost it over a commercial!  And not one of those starving kid or abused animal commercials either.  A fucking Verizon cell phone commercial, you know the one with the balls rolling down the slide thing.  Yeah, that one.  Now I know Verizon is expensive, but it’s not THAT expensive.  I know balls rolling down hill can be stressful, but definitely tear worthy.  So obviously it wasn’t the commercial that caused me to burst into tears. 

I was just watching In the Heat of the Night, one of my all time favorite shows EVER!!  Anyway, I was sitting here, watching the show, my mind on a thousand other things, my body in stasis, when suddenly it felt as though I was being crushed by all the misery and pain of the entire world.  The tears were unexpected, and uncontrollable.  The entire episode lasted about ten minutes and ended as abruptly as it began.

To look at me you would have no idea I was certifiably insane (not really, but it seems that way), you would think I was just as normal as anyone else.  You can’t see the pain, the hopelessness, the apathy.  You can’t see that I am struggling to make it through every day, hell through every single hour.  You would have no idea I had a disease that wrecks havoc on my life.

But I do.

If you’ve made it this far, then you should hear the rest.  I don’t want to die.  No, I am NOT thinking about dying, but I do think about death.  I’m telling you this because I NEED to reaffirm that one simple fact, I DO NOT WANT TO DIE.  I CAN get through this, I have time and time again.  I refuse to allow an unseeable, untouchable, and unwanted illness to take control of my life.
I REFUSE TO BE A VICTIM OF MY OWN BODY!!

So the next time you start to scroll past that Facebook post, think about all those people, like me, who struggle ever single day.  We are JUST LIKE YOU.

My cat is insane

I have a cat…….. I think. I say that I think because I’m not real sure what this four legged creature actually is.

It looks like a cat, it has four legs, a long tail, whiskers and large round eyes. It meows….well, sort of meows, makes a squeaking noise anyway. It chases the laser light…..but so do my dogs. It plays with balls…..then again, so do the dogs.

It sleeps on the back of the chair!! (ignore the mess in the background, I’ve been lazy over the holidays)

It curls up on my lap in the mornings and makes a noise that sounds like an old GMC motor. It washes itself…..it shits in a box…..must be a cat, right??

WRONG!!!

It wears clothes!!

Sometimes it just wears a hat….

AND it does so willingly (even though it looks like an elderly Polish woman to me)

It sleeps with the dogs…..it actually refuses to sleep through the night unless it’s with Reedus…..

It believes it is a dog!! It torments the dogs, chases them through the house, tackles them at every opportunity…..even going to the point of insisting to be with them when it’s dog snuggle time…..

It washes out Reedus’ ears and licks his face before going to sleep…..

And it conspires with the other fur demons in order to make it impossible for me to sit on my own furniture….

Even to the point of instigating them to EACH take a chair….. and by taking a chair I DO mean taking up the entire chair…..

It refuses to eat cat food or even cat treats!!!! It eats DOG FOOD and any item it can beg from a poor unfortunate human that is eating in its presence.

It insists on being in EVERY photo it realizes you are taking….

AND it goes outside on a tie out!! YES, it loves to be tied outside on the lead.

He is the reason none of the rugs in my house stay in place……

 

Notice that Reedus is looking at me like “Do you see what it is doing??  Do ya??

Speaking of Reedus……it is also the reason that Reedus needs intense therapy and nerve meds. 

 

It is also the reason the dog toys are ALWAYS all over the floor!!

Like I said, I have a cat……..I think.