Cats in the Cradle

Shit.
Today marks the second day I almost killed my boyfriend's cat. I was in Utah for that wedding the 1st through the 5th of the month and my boyfriend was going out of town the 4th through the 11th. Before I left he asked me to check in on his cats, feed them and give them water and such. I like cats, they are low maintence animals. I like that they are successful survivalists even more. So I said sure, thinking taking on this small task might make me seem more responsible, I've been working on that. Needless to say I completly forgot about it the day after he told me. To give me a little credit he asked me before I even left and then didnt bring it up again until today. He called me while I was washing my car this afternoon and nonchalauntly mentions "Oh, hey, you've been checking on the cats right?"
You know those moments when your stomach sort of gets really hot and drops making you really nautious? At times when you, say, get caught in a lie, or perhaps back a truck into a complete strangers fence, another thing I managed to accomplish this week. I exhaled loudly "pft, yeah. I... I totally checked on them... a couple times." He says something like "ok, good" and starts talking about fireflies, or waterparks or something. I have no idea what he was saying because I was busy mentally beating myself and fumbling for my car keys while trying to pretend I was listening to him. "Love you, talk to you later." I tossed my phone somewhere on the passengar side "shitshitshitshitshit, shiiiiiit." I started running calculations in my head. If they left on Saturday and today is Wednesday thats five days. But they probably fed them on Saturday so thats only four days. If they were going on a trip maybe they would put extra food in the bowl? So, extra food gives me two days which makes it only three days since they've eaten. How long is it again that you can survive off of just water?... Do they have water? shitshitshitshit. The drive actually went by really quickly. I sped into a halfhazzard diagonal park job and took quick stiff steps to the door "kitty kitty kitty?" Shit, locked door. I remember something about the barbeque and start rummaging around in the drawers until I find a key. Inside the house is cool and quiet. I grab a cup of cat food and start running around the house shaking the container and calling "kitty kitty kitty" like some sort of psych ward escap'e. The cat appears, streching from a nap, and seems only mildly interest in food. I love cats. I also love that my boyfriend doesnt know about this blog.