Andy Flemming’s cat redundancy letter.

Dear Loki,

As you’re aware, households often restructure and, sadly, your position as ‘Cat’ is no longer tenable. We have tried to find another position for you within the household but as you seem unable to cook, drive, clean dishes, mow the backyard or complete even the most basic of tasks, we are sadly unable to continue to provide you with employment,

We have outlined some reasons for your redundancy below.

1. On December 1, you urinated in the sink. As you are fully aware, toiletry equipment was provided for you in the bathroom. This is kept clean and your decision to completely ignore said equipment has been constantly witnessed and noted. You have also chosen instead to use the back of the plant, the bottom of the stairs and the little gap between the wall and the Xbox. This behaviour is not only unacceptable, but for some reason, this seems to encourage you to return to the aforementioned locations to do it over and over again.

2. Your decision to violently lash out during light stroking has been relentless and alarming. One of your primary functions is to provide a calming presence and deciding to insert your claws into the wrist and then repeatedly kick the wrist to enhance your purchase is both painful and completely unnecessary.

3. We accept your need to occasionally sleep, but all parties are now fully aware that you have abused this privilege. You seem to be asleep for twenty-three hours a day, rising only to eat or urinate in the locations listed in point #1.

4. Your constant desire to slowly drag Christmas decorations from the cupboard is, quite frankly, baffling. We are aware that tinsel somehow interests you, but dragging it into the hallway and then leaving it creates a health and safety issue as at least one member of staff has tripped over it. If you had dragged the tinsel back into the cupboard and closed it, we wouldn’t be in the unfortunate position we’re in today.

5. Adequate food and water being provided was included within the contract that you signed seven years ago, as were the times that mealtimes would take place. Your decision to mandate your own times has caused undue distress and alarm. We refer to recent events where you howl constantly in the bedroom before performing what can only be described as feline parkour, jumping from the floor to the bed and then across the faces of the staff members within the bed. We have never jumped on your face while you’re sleeping. Your decision to jump on ours shows a malicious intent that cannot be due to hunger alone.

6. We supplied a plan view of the household and noted locations where you could vomit. You have ignored all of these locations, choosing instead to vomit in secret and always on a carpeted surface.

7. Your urinary habits led to us having to employ the services of an outside advisor, who claimed that this is due to ‘stress.’ As sleeping twenty-three hours a day, rising only to eat, urinate or vomit does not fall under our agreed definition of ‘stress’. As such, we will be billing you for the various pills that you have repeatedly refused to eat.

Termination entitlements:

You will be provided with the ‘bird attached to long cord on stick’ that you have broken, your favourite pen and twenty cans of mixed seafood per year of employment.

Loki, we have enjoyed your company over the last few years and look forward to you enjoying every success in your future households. Please don’t hesitate to howl if you have any questions. Please press your paw onto page two.

Signed,

Andy Flemming.

December 3, 2024.