I have this cat.  His name is Peanut.  He comes up missing for several hours every day.  I think this is normal, but I’m not really sure.  Sometimes when he returns, he smells weird. It’s kind of like a mixture of peanut butter and grapes.  It took me months to pinpoint the smell, but I realized that he must be going to the airport.

Our airport is notorious for the food truck out in front.  It’s called SANDWICH.  That’s it, just SANDWICH.  Their motto is, “The easiest snack, and you still can’t make it right.”  They specialize in peanut butter and jelly creations.  I used to have a job there, but they fired me because of my crappy de-crusting abilities and the fact that you can’t make a sandwich related alliteration out of my name.  I visited my former employer, who just so happens to be named Brian Bread, to ask if he had seen my cat.  He pointed up at the sign on the side of his truck, and lo and behold, it was my beloved Peanut. I asked Jelly Jan, the prep cook and head de-cruster, how long he had been visiting the truck.  She told me that it had been since he was a kitten.  

I never had any reason to mistrust a cat.  Somehow, I feel like I have been being cheated on with another family.  I can’t believe I was betrayed by my own cat.