Of course I feel guilty.
Sneaking around wears me out.
Living a double life is exhausting.
But it is not just me. My sweet Sven is guilty too.
We cheat together side by side.
We snuggle with one on the couch.
And we sleep with the other.
Because that is the kind of marriage we have.
It is really not our fault that we are living in sin.
You see, it all started when Sven, our dog from hell Hunter, and I, were a happy little family getting older and going about our business in a black hole somewhere in Wisconsin.
And then.
Tuna moved in.
And then, Sven, Hunter, Tuna our teenage cat, and I, were a happy little family getting older and going about our business in a black hole somewhere in Wisconsin.
And then.
Grandma Meow Meow showed up on our door step with a suitcase.
And then.
I opened the door and helped the little old lady in with her luggage.
And now.
My sweet Sven, Hunter, Tuna, Grandma Meow Meow and I are a happy little family getting older and going about our business in a black hole somewhere in Wisconsin, with a whole lot of cheating going on.
Hunter was not impressed with either one of the furry newcomers.
But at least he has given up trying to bite their heads off for the most part, as long as he gets a treat whenever anybody else gets a treat.
And he does.
I was not in the room for the first encounter between the two felines.
Per Sven, fur flew right off Grandma when Tuna tried to kill her.
Kids these days.
Like any well meaning Pisces, holding my nose and cleaning up piss and fur balls from said scene, I decided to tackle the problem head on with peace talks between the enemies.
After several sessions of cat carrier to cat carrier set face to face on the dining room table it became clear that these two would probably not make ideal roommates.
So.
That is why Grandma lives downstairs in her assisted living apartment behind the laundry room curtain.
And that is why she has meals on wheels delivered to her fancy dining room down there past the recreation area and she has a perch set up to watch nature out the back door, while the rest of us all have to share the main floor.
And because I was the one who got to hang around in the basement shooting the shit with a woman on my lap who couldn't hear a damn word I was saying, it seemed like a good idea to bring her upstairs while her arch nemesis was outside hunting and climbing trees.
That way the rest of us could all visit on the comfort of a couch.
We could all watch a little TV together.
We could all have a snack.
Grandma seemed to like the new arrangement.
As a matter of fact, not only does she now expect all her downstairs services to continue, she also expects to be picked up every evening to settle in on the soft blanket next to me on the sofa for a movie and cuddle time.
Little old ladies wearing pearl necklaces and carrying clutch purses are very demanding.
That is why Sven and I are always covering for each other.
Wiping away our fingerprints.
Making up stories.
I don't know how spies do it.
How affairs can last.
Because no matter how careful we are, Tuna still looks at us funny.
And ever since we saw him bite that snake in half, the thought of getting caught in this love triangle is scary as hell.
