YSaC, Vol. 517: God, I hope this has nothing to do with furries…
Cat Nanny Required
I am a shift worker and my three cats need tending too.
Due to the pickyness of the cats, you must meet the following strict guidelines:
Female, aged 18 – 25 (proof of ID required)
slim to athletic build.
Outgoing and willing to try new things.
Flexible
good sense of humor
acceptingmust be available during odd hours on short notice.
Salary is negotiable based on experience and services rendered.
Hope to hear from you!
Hmm.. Why, exactly, are this person’s cats looking for a prostitute? The key is in the first sentence: “I am a shift worker, and my three cats need tending TOO.” Meaning ALSO. The shift worker needs tending to, and so do the cats. Presumably, the cats’ needs will be addressed in another post.
I’m a bit puzzled about why the CATS are picky about your escorts, however. Our cat’s entire list of criteria for people we bring to the house consists of:
1. Is this person going to feed me?
2. …
…there’s really just the one, now that I think about it.
Thanks for the listing, J.H.!
I wonder how long it will be before someone takes the low road and makes some kind of pussy comment.
Oops. I think it was just me.
At least you weren’t a fraidy cat about it.
They probably hope everyone knows they were just kitten.
I know the feline.
With my cats, it’s usually:
1. Do you have food?
2. Will you scratch my itchy bits?
3. Do you have food now?
4. Will you keep my butt warm while I take a four hour nap?
5. Do you have food now?
6. Can I sharpen my claws on portions of your anatomy?
7. Do you have food now?
8. Are you made of food?
It sounds more like this asshat is looking for a hooker who likes cats, so he can tell his Mom that he hired someone to look after her pets so she won’t kick him out of the basement and he can still get his freak on.
winner!
I’m just happy I got to write the words “Will you scratch my itchy bits?” in a completely G-rated context.
I agree, although with my cats it’s more like
1. is there going to be food?
2. is there going to be food now?
3. no you can’t sit here, it’s mine
4. I’m still waiting for the food!
With mine, it’s:
1) Will you pet me?
2) Will you give me kitty treats?
3a) Will you hold absolutely still for hours on end so I can sleep on your lap?
– or –
3b) Will you hold your arm absolutely still for the same amount of time so I can settle on it and sleep against your chest while you’re sitting up?
… Actually, 3b does require a certain amount of arm stamina. Maybe that’s why the guy needs someone of an athletic build?
oh yes, I’d forgotten one
5. Can I sleep by your side, using your arm for a pillow, for hours on end? You may not move it, and I will drool.
Firefly has developed a variation in which she will drape herself across the top of my head if I am laying down and reading. When she purrs it sounds like thunder.
Gaah, I got cut off! There should be another sentence;
I look like I’m wearing a toupee with feet.
oh, and i snore, too.
Have you been reading my diary, queensbee?
Very peculiar cats he must have. Do they instantly attack anyone over 25?
Fordy (that’s him on my shoulder) loves me though I am male, 41, slightly chubby, unwilling to try new things and have no sense of humor whatsoever.
Maybe the cats are ageists?
My oldest cat Simon is actually terrified of men, so I could see why someone would be particular about who is taking care of their cats. But if all the woman is doing is putting out food and cleaning up, then he is way too specific and is heading out of “Eccentric-land” and is barreling down the Weirdo Highway towards “Insanity City” on the Fetish Express.
“Fetish Express” would be a great band name.
Or the name of an adult-themed convenience store.
With drive thru.
And both full-service and self-service pumps
Fetish Express. When your bondage gear absolutely, positively has to be there overnight…
Your cats are named Firefly and Simon? It wouldn’t surprise me if Simon has a sister named River and a girlfriend named Kaylee.
…..Nerd alert! ๐
No such luck, although I am a fan of Firefly. Simon’s full name is Simon Jester, from the Heinlein novel The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. Firefly gets her name because she’s almost solid black with little freckles of orange that remind me of fireflies at night. Fearless got her name because an hour after I got her home she managed to wedge herself into an air-conditioning duct while exploring her new home.
That’s a gorram shame!
My brain gets stuck on “Flexible.” I keep picturing a contortionist balancing a pet dish on her head while she folds herself into a pretzel shape.
I see you deciphered my ad perfectly. I mean, uh….
it was the “services rendered” bit that caught me Isaac, after all just exactly what “services” does his cat require?
I guess he expects to pay extra if the kitties get a “happy ending.”
“Willing to try new things” is what’s got me. Does he want a cat sitter who has never taken care of cats? Or something so much worse?
He doesn’t want just a cat sitter, he wants a “cat nanny.” Given his other requirements, I suspect he wants something far, far worse.
Spit spot little kitties. It’s time to clean your litter box, Marry Poppins style.
*Poo goes floating through the air towards the garbage*
At least he wasn’t asking for a “cat nurse.”
Well, not explicitly, anyway. Probably if he needed a lactating lady, he’d have mentioned it.
Thanks Isaac…since you mentioned the “cat nurse” naturally the first thought in my head was nurses give baths and considering the way cats prefer to bath…Eww!
*Goes to bang head repeatedly against wall.*
There’s boiling bleach in the cupboard if you need it MsDolfinn
I do believe I could use a bit at the moment.
Isaac, it sounds like you should be writing for Penthouse Forum. Or maybe CatFancy Forum.
I can see it now:
Maybe she has to squeeze herself into a cat costume? That would explain the “slim to athletic build.” as well.
I just love the fact that he requests proof of ID. How exactly do you provide that? Oh yeah, I have an ID – see I have a picture of the ID and me on vacation in Reno.
Proof of ID. And EGO. Get on the couch.
My inner child don’t wanna. She wants a balloon and cotton candy.
*punches sarajean’s Don’t Suck card* Come back next week, please.
*rub eyes*
*read ad again*
*blink*
*rub eyes*
*think it’s time for coffee because … maybe if I have some and come back it will make more sense*
“odd hours”
“salary” … salary? salary?!? A salaried, on-call sex worker and cat sitter? What do you call that? Cat ho? Lady of the litterbox? Keeper of the p*ssy?
What section was this posted in?
Someone please tell me that this guy’s “cats” are not his genitalia. There are three of them (the “meat and two veg”), and he doesn’t otherwise describe the “cats” at all except to say that they are picky. That’s it, blame it on the cats. As the police lead him away after finding the woman’s body, he’ll tell the media, “The kitties made me do it. The kitties in my pants.”
Thanks for expanding on that Lola.
I’m gonna go brush my teeth.
and my brain.
I can never get all the thinking stains out. All those wrinkles seem to trap the thoughts and get all dingy and grey.
Boiling Bleach all around.
and my eyeballs.
…The kitties made me do it. The kitties in my pants…
I am amused and disturbed on so many levels right now. And I am really having second thoughts about that “I *heart* Kitties” bumper sticker right now.
As long as all the cat people here don’t change their pictures to “kitties” I think we’ll all make it through this.
All those “kitties”…eww.
I find it intriguing that Lola has turned what is normally a derogatory term for female genitalia into a humorous reference to male genitalia. Iโm sure it doesnโt mean anything.
Any cat pictures I post will be of felines, not that kind of “kitties” (a term I hate to the extent I forgot about its use as a euphemism). The closest approximation to that, visually, that I would ever put up would be some Georgia O’Keeffe flower or something.
… But right now, Mlle. Deneuve is my avatar and I’m sticking with her.
maybe he wants proof of ID to make sure she’s “legal”? Perhaps he’s had issues in the past with his previous, erm, nannies, who turned out to be a little under age.
That might also explain the “short notice” part, the case is pending and he doesn’t know when he be called into court next.
Or when the next time his Viagra is going to kick in…
Well, you know, if that thing lasts longer than 4 hours, he…errr, the kitties..must seek medical attention.
I’d bet anything he’s got a hidden “nanny cam” in the house.
I wonder if “cat nanny” could mean something like a hootenanny? A little party with a busty young lady fresh from the hayloft, with big stompy boots and a banjo… only with cats somehow involved?
It does look like he wants to have a ho down.
Caterwauling + Hootenanny = Cat Nanny?
Catechism + Lilorfanannny* = Cat Nanny?
* Lilorfananny = The optimistic belief that the sun will come out tomorrow. Represented by unseeing, white, pupil-less sclera.
ouch.
Oh yes, she needs a good sense of humor. Maybe these cats need someone to watch their standup comedy act.
A Persian, an Abyssinian, and a Manx walk into a bar…
…The bartender looks at the Manx and asks “Hey buddy, what’s your tail of woe?”
Don’t even think of hiring a cat handler for me. You know where to find me – up in the attic smoking and writing in my diary. I’ll come down when I need some head scratching.
Misty T. Cat
Just don’t visit with theGreen Fairy too often or we might have to confine you to the cat asylum.
Advert for a cat house?
Clearly, this guy has some rare and exotic breeds, due the specificity of their desires.
One of them is clearly a Bouncer Kitteh. They like to hang out in your porch or on your front lawn, and will demand ID of any and all visitors. Unless you’re on the list, only the pretty ladies are getting in. Since this guy works shifts, he has no time to update or approve the list, so he’s just making it easy on himself.
Everything else is just to ensure that his Bartender Kitteh and Table Dancer Kitteh aren’t taken in the wrong light. It’s hard to own a rare breed, people just don’t understand the joy they can bring to the right owner.
Is the Table Dancer Kitteh breed any relation to Scratching Post/Pole Dancer Kitteh? Because I think I’ve known some people who owned those.
I’ve had plenty-o cats. None were this discerning. I’ve never actually had a cat that would listen to my jokes at all so I’m mostly caught up with the whole “must have a good sense of humor” thing.
Do the cats roll there eyes when they hear bad jokes? I get that a lot, but only from other people. Never from cats.
In Soviet Russia, eyes roll you.
In Soviet Russia, cat humors you.
NEWS FLASH:
Retired Navy man Ed Snyder discovers a hidden stash of unused Yakov Smirnoff jokes! Apparently he had stored them his cold war era bomb shelter “…for when the radiation turns us all into monkeys.” He then added: “In Soviet Russia, monkeys turn radiation into you!”
In Soviet Russia, Party comes late to you!
In Soviet Russia, stash finds you!
In Soviet Russia, it’s actually Stash who finds you. Stash is short for Stanislaus*. And you don’t actually want him to find you. This is the man who made “disappear” into an adjective – to be “disappeared.”
*This is actually true.
“Monkeys turn radiation into you!”
So that’s how the transporter beam works! Infinite Monkey Drive!
I can hear Scotty now;
“I canna do nao moor, Cap’n, the moonkies, they arr flingin’ as fast as they can!”
In Soviet Russia, cat LOLs you!
And everyone, thanks for not pointing out my “there v. their” typo. I noticed it a little too late to edit it. (I almost typed “a little to late to edit it” just now which would not have been good.
I wanted to, but I figured that it was a slip-up and not just ignorance ๐ If somenoe uses the wrong homophone because of ignorance, THAT’S when I correct! ๐
Ed, you almost got sucked into a Grammar Self-Slap loop! You post to correct a typo, and make another typo, so you post AGAIN to correct that, and make another typo! Oh, the humanity!
In Soviet Russia, typo corrects ED!
*coughcough-unclosedparentheses-coughcough*
And agree with arallyn – slipups aren’t mock-worthy, but general ‘tardedness is.
*coughcough-slip ups-coughcough*
Unless you’re correcting someone else…
*coughcough* slip-ups takes a hyphen *coughcough*
*hands out vit. C and cough drops*
*coughcough* In Soviet Russia, hyphen takes slip-ups *coughcough*
*coughcough* Air is so bad here in Soviet Russia *coughcough*
*coughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcough*
You guys intimidate the shit out of me. I post with a great amount of fear and trembling, for fear of a beating. Thanks for taking it easy on me so far.
“Salary is negotiable based on experience…”
Is this an inverse scale? Because when it comes to hookers – pardon me, “cat nannies” – it seems like less experience would be preferable.
I can only take comfort in knowing that most slim, athletic build 18- to 25-year-old females have developed enough of a sense to detect deviant perves who overestimate their own cleverness.
You’ve never been to a sorority rush party have you?
I have been but I couldn’t get any, for some reason…
This has low-budget horror film written all over it.
A young, bubbly and not-too-bright co-ed answers a CraigsList ad, not knowing it would end in terror.
“Oh, I love kitties! I’d love to take care of the sweet little smootchie-wookiums.” a Marty Feldman look-alike opens a creaking door to a falling down house that resembles Bates Manor.
“Right this way, my dear. The kitties are in the basement…”
Fade to black to the sounds of blood-curdling screams, insane laughter, and theremin music.
DO IT.
Anything with theremins = I’m in.
There: I’m in, too.
There, there!
YSaC, Now with Theremin!
Am I the only one who “charitably” interpreted this as a post from a crazy cat lady seeking a body double for herself to cater to her cats’ every whim while she’s at work? It’s still strange and creepy, but in a different way.
If the OP was asking for a tall 30s-ish beet farmer with glasses and no sense of humor, I would think it was Angela.
Huh. Well, I didn’t see it that way but I guess it’s possible. I think you just called all of us out on being horribly jaded Craigslist cynics!
But what Crazy Cat Lady would describe herself (or her doppelgรคnger) as being 18-25 years of age? That seems weirdly specific.
How on earth is the web boss llama-nun ever going to pick the best comment out of this lot?
I would like to nominate Coco’s Cathouse Forum letter. I think I dislocated a rib laughing.
And on a side note; Yay! I get to punch my “You Don’t Suck” Comment Card! ๐
And a well deserved punch it is, too. Wait. That doesn’t sound right.
Thanks, Cled! I know what you mean ๐
I’d second that nom-nom-nomination. Coco shoots and scores.
*bows slightly self-consciously*
Thank you! I’m here all week. Try the Friskies!
I was looking forward to Chinese food. Do you have any Mao Mix?
No, but we do have Purina Phแป Plan, if I could tempt you with some Thai.
Aww, it looks like the listing has been flagged for removal already. I was really looking forward to getting to know this chap.
“must be available during odd hours on short notice.”
Basically, when I’m lonely and horny, you better be ready!
And, the good sense of humor I’m sure refers to the joke that’s in his pants.
I once had a cat sitter for Misty who picked Misty in the middle of a nap. My cat woke up, freaked, and bit her. How do I know this? The sitter called me during my vacation to let me know she had to go to the emergency room – she is horribly allergic to cat bites. The doctor wanted to know the name of the cat and the cat’s owner but the cat sitter declined. Called me on vacation to tell me all this.
So let’s look at the scorecard:
female, aged 18 โ 25 – no
slim to athletic build – no
outgoing and willing to try new things – she didn’t see a conflict of interest between watching cats and being allergic to cat bites
flexible – she offered to watch my cat again, continued to send me marketing emails, is available on holidays
good sense of humor – hard to tell through the martyred tone in her voice
accepting – yes, she didn’t sue me for medical reimbursement
If I can get the original poster to see beyond this retired lady’s appearance and see her qualifications, we might have a match!
You think that would be something the sitter would disclose.
“I’d love to watch your cat, as long as it doesn’t bite me, because then my throat could swell close and I could die.”
Maybe she didn’t know until she got bit! I mean, it’s not generally something you test for on an allergy screening…cat dander, sure, but cat saliva? Who the hell tests for cat saliva?
You have a point, but isn’t cat dander made partially from dried cat saliva? Aren’t they pretty much soaked in the stuff?
shit if I know. I know it took my brother forever to get an accurate diagnosis that he was allergic to rat saliva, which is why his forearms were constantly swollen.
rats lick themselves more than cats and he wasn’t allergic to their dander, so I guess it’s separate?
The mark of a professional cat sitter is unwillingness to disclose the name of one’s client even while undergoing anaphylaxis.
I LOVE the new cd “Cat Nanny” by Ana Phylaxis!
I felt like she sold out after “Mine Hores.”
Your story reminds me of a story that is not really all that closely related at all. I’m a pet sitter (a legitimate one). This guy called me at the last minute to ask me to sit for his dogs over the weekend–wife out of town, he had the opportunity to go on a camping trip with his pals, etc. I agreed, dashed out to meet him and the dogs right before he left on his trip. He seemed like kind of an ass, but the dogs were nice (Goldens), and I wasn’t going to have to actually interact with him beyond the one meeting that was already happening, so I agreed.
When I took the dogs out for the first time, I made the startling discovery that his backyard was *full of beehives*. Previously undisclosed beehives. I expect I would still have taken the job if I had known about them–really, the only reason I would refuse the client would if I were allergic (which I happen not to be, although I have relatives who are).
If you raise bees, you have to know that they’re a hazard, right? You know that lots of people aren’t especially fond of them, and some people can be killed by even one sting. And this asshole decided to just *not mention them* so that I wouldn’t have a chance to decline the opportunity to work near this hazard. And he lived in the country, too, with no neighbors within shouting distance. If I were allergic, and had been stung, he’d have come home to find my bloated corpse in his yard.
(Additionally, for those not in the know, modern beehives basically look like file boxes. I saw them and thought, “Huh? Are those stacks of file boxes, or–yup, beehives.” But many, if not most, people aren’t going to recognize a beehive from a distance, and wouldn’t know to be careful to stay away from them.)
Typical conversation twixt me and my cat goes like this…
Me: Hello there little man, how was your day? Miss me?
Cat: Meow – which roughly translated means – “I don’t hear ‘tuna’ in any of that…the litterbox is dirty, my water bowl needs cleaning and filling, and if I can’t have tuna at least fill the food bowl with those kibble-thingies so I can turn my nose up at it, show you my arse, and hide under the bed for another two hours.”