Aestheticization of Kitty Violence

A well-meaning co-worker forwarded me "Mewvies", enthusing that my cats will "just adore it!!!!!!!" Now, for all of you who think that I'm a cat person, this is an example of a true crazy cat lady. Who knows, maybe she has good reason; maybe she comes home to ome scene of adorable cuddly cuteness, comme ca:

Whereas increasingly, I feel like I'm coming home and stepping into a war zone:

Yesterday, the canopy over my bed, one of my supremely cool wine glasses made from an old recycled Perrier bottle and the flowers that were sitting so prettily in it, and several of the Object's toes dangling off the end of the were clawed up and masticated, casualties of a regime of cute destruction.

How many more knicknacks must suffer before the kitties' reign of terror is over?

Probably a lot, as I've just sort of resigned myself to the quotidian naughtiness. This morning, as the Kitty Who Isn't Staying clawed the hell out of my box springs, the Object looked at me incredulously, crying "Make him stop! Boundaries!"

"Eh," I replied. "I've kind of given up."

(Yet another reason I should definitely NOT have children.)

In any case, I cannot netflix the Mewvies because I let the kitties watch American Psycho last night, and the last thing I want to hear from anyone's mouth is "I have to return some videotapes". Especially since I keep forgetting to cut their claws. They'd work out some kind of crazy Domo Kun weaponry, and the next thing you know, I'm not getting my deposit back when I move out.