Giving credit where credit is due

Chaz speaks out about the ongoing misinformation concerning his abilities

Chaz, Beloved Pet

I will no longer stand for the continual bastardization of my character within the pages of this newspaper. If one of my owners will stoop to the level of slander in the Old Gold & Black, then I have no choice but to respond to his vehemence with a review of my own.

With regards to my intelligence, I successfully acquired an adequate command of the English language within the span of a week. In terms of sheer cerebral power, I find this a far more impressive accomplishment than Andy’s academic performance this semester. I’ve been on his desk; I’ve seen the overdue assignments on Canvas and the gazes into the ceiling in lieu of making headway on papers. My frequent reconnaissance missions into his room have unearthed an appalling lack of organization in the notes he hastily scrawls on printer paper, so I’m baffled as to how I can be faulted for minor disorder. Texting and breaks to prepare food mid-Zoom class hardly qualify as active participation, which leaves me quite confused as to where his feelings of anthropocentric authority arise from.

While Andy faults me for my lack of exercise and daunting size, I hardly find his habits enviable. I don’t think that he’s figured this out yet, but morning runs aren’t adequate recompense for the Taco Bell and Cook Out that he frequently litters our kitchen with. Perhaps my diet doesn’t have much variation, but at least Meow Mix isn’t oozing with saturated fat. I’m not even suggesting that Andy should put in hours at the gym, but at least a few push-ups or sit-ups could do his spindly frame a bit of good. 

I know that I’ve been attacked for my naps and glassy stares, but they’re nothing compared to the excesses of laziness that Andy indulges in. I hardly think that 4 p.m. on Tuesdays is an appropriate time for a bath, but I often find him in the tub with a face mask on and candles lit nonetheless. You would think that a human wouldn’t manage to reach feline levels of rest in a day, but it’s been common enough for Andy to notch a resounding 12 hours in a day. Those graduate school and job applications aren’t submitting themselves, and though I’m sure they’re getting completed in his dreams, I would love to see him take a more pragmatic approach to prepare for his future. 

I wish that I derived more entertainment from Andy, but his singing is off-key and his jokes never land the way he thinks they will. I provide plenty of aural amusement and physical comedy, so I would like to see more effort put into granting me the same benefit. I’m not asking for choreographed break dancing routines, but hearing something other than the same four country songs on loop would be a start.

I have taken flack for my lack of affection and bared fangs, but I would like to take the opportunity to categorically deny these baseless accusations. I’m sure that if others were prodded in the stomach while being derided as a “dumb cat,” they would probably take fierce issue with the behavior as well. I’ve tried to be the bigger being: I give him friendly nips, try to offer warmth for his chilled legs in the morning, and even grant him an occasional few minutes to stroke my magnificent coat. He has gotten more accommodating as of late; I’ve received more face and neck rubs than ever, but I still need to see a more continual effort on this end. Though I was greeted with tenderness when I decided to nuzzle into his chest this morning in a rare display of generosity, Andy still has significant inroads to make. I give him a 2/10.