from see you in hell—suckers

The cat will come soon. He will, yes, yes. He will be little and vulnerable and his
name will be Oscar. He will be my nephew—responsibility be damned! I’m an aunt,
not a mother. He will be nice and mean, and we will initially circle one another
before pouncing. I will rock him like an aunt rocks her kin and he will meow as tears
wet his fur. I will allow him to hiss. We will hiss a cappella. He will be lonely and eat
his dry cat food, and I will be there to fill his void. It will be happy and nothing will
ever again be wrong. Welcome to the family, my dear cherished one.