Laborous Thoughts

Today was bring-your-cat-to-work day at the dump. Some of the members of the Planning Board thought this would be a good way to show our cats what we do all day. I guess the experience is supposed to give the felines a better appreciation of our human labors, and possibly explain why we come home smelling, well, so interesting.
Frankly, I don't think it is such a good idea for the cats to see us at work. Cats do not have a word in their vocabulary for work. To a cat everything can be described with three words: Food, sleep, Play. They sleep for 23 hours a day. All the rest of their existence takes place in one hour of wakefulness.

Research has shown that after a cat sees you cleaning the litter box, they lose respect for you. Of course! Do you respect the poor fuck who cleans up your shithouse? Sure, you may still have kind feelings for the cleaner as a person, and maybe even have sex with them, but you really don't put them on a pedestal of honor.

Anyhow, most of us boycotted the cat idea, except Rajid, the new guy. His house cat is a rare white Bengal Tiger. He had the huge beast on a leash and was beaming when he came into the cob house.
"Hey Sigfreid, what the fuck is that?" Lardass almost fell off his chair.
"This is my baby, Sindee. Say Hello Sindee."
The tiger took one look around and became tired. Her hour of activity must have expired. She laid down and started to purr. it sounded like an idling Mack Truck.
Lardass said what was on all of our minds, " How much it cost you for kitty litter?"