Garfield's Last Monday

  John stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Tonight was the night. He had really hit the jackpot with this girl—beautiful, smart, and somehow, willing to date a guy who had a weird obsession with cats. He had never been so excited.

  The doorbell rang, pulling John out of his thoughts. His heart pounded in his chest as he opened the door to reveal her, a vision in a gorgeous gown. She smiled, and John felt like he was in a dream.

  But before he could say anything, his dream was shattered by a furry orange blur. Garfield, his beloved yet infamously problematic cat, charged through the doorway like a cartoon Tasmanian devil. Before John or his date could react, Garfield came to a sudden stop, hacking and coughing before spewing a massive hairball that exploded right in the woman's face.

  "Oh my god!" she shrieked, wiping at the mess with wide-eyed panic. "I have to leave! Your cat is fucking insane! I'm calling an Uber!" She stormed off, leaving John standing in the doorway, deflated, his small bouquet crushed in his hand as tears welled up in his eyes.

  Behind him, Garfield sauntered over, completely unbothered. "Jeez, John, I'm sorry. Odie got into my stuff again. Also, took a dump in your cereal box. Guess which one? Just bustin’ your balls, buddy. Now let’s get cracking on that lasagna, eh?"

  John stared down at the cat, his frustration boiling over into something deeper. Was this really his life? Watching over a neurotic dog, a psychopathic cat, and a kitten that was meant to fix the void in his heart? The days turned into weeks, and everything stayed the same. But John was cracking under the surface.

  "Hey, John," Garfield said one day, sprawled out on the couch, "how’s that lasagna coming along? I’ve got about five minutes before I fart in your Fruit Loops."

  John robotically placed the lasagna in front of Garfield, but this time, something was different. A dark seed of rebellion had planted itself in John's mind.

  "You burned the cheese again!" Garfield complained, shoveling the food into his mouth. "I'll eat this one, but I expect another one done right."

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  John said nothing. Just stared.

  A week later, John decided to take Garfield, Odie, and Nermal for a ride. “Well, John, your hair’s looking shittier than usual. You blow your paycheck on some new hair gel?” Garfield sneered.

  "Yeah," John replied, his voice flat, his eyes focused on the road with a vacant, faraway look.

  "Uh, John? You passed the park, dumbass. Even with GPS, you manage to get lost,” Garfield continued, now slightly annoyed.

  John turned his head slowly toward Garfield, confined in his cat carrier. "I'm not lost," John said, his voice dark and unrecognizable.

  Garfield's smugness faded. "Uh, John? Where are we going?" The cat’s tone was tinged with genuine fear now.

  "We're here," John said, pulling into the veterinarian’s office parking lot.

  Garfield’s heart sank. “John, wait—think about this! It's me! I’ll tone it down, I swear! It’s Monday, though. You know I hate—”

  John yanked the carrier out of the car, his face cold and unfeeling. "No more Mondays, Garfield! No more lasagna! No more tormenting me for your sick amusement!" He marched toward the entrance, dragging Odie and Nermal along.

  Inside, the receptionist greeted John with a warm smile. "Hi there! How can I help you?"

  “I need three animals euthanized. I have an appointment," John said, barely looking at her.

  The receptionist’s face didn’t falter. “Sure! Just sign these forms, and we’ll get everything taken care of for you.”

  John watched as the staff took his pets away, Garfield still begging him with wide, terrified eyes. The cat probably felt betrayed, but John steeled himself. He had to do this. The voice in his head told him it was the right thing.

  As he was about to leave, the receptionist handed him a business card. "I wrote my personal number on the back. You know, in case you ever want to hang out sometime," she said with a playful smile.

  John blinked, momentarily stunned, but then felt a new surge of excitement. “I’ll do just that.”

  He drove home feeling lighter, liberated from the oppressive chaos of his pets. The house was peaceful for the first time in years—no smell of cat piss, no dog chewing his shoes, no sarcastic cat insults.

  But then, the loneliness crept in. Regret started to form in his mind. "No," John said out loud, shaking his head. "Don’t even think about getting another cat, you codependent son of a bitch."

  His thoughts turned instead to the receptionist. He was excited to finally start living again, free of the madness that had consumed his life for so long. Yes, it was tragic that Odie and Nermal had to go, but Garfield? Garfield was a bad egg, rotten to the core.

  John wasted no time setting up a date with the receptionist. They decided on a new Italian restaurant.

  “I’m so glad I met you, Jennifer,” John said, holding her hand across the table.

  “Me too, John,” she replied, her voice soft and sweet. “I’m sorry it took getting rid of your pets to help you find out how to really live.”

  As she caressed his neck, John couldn’t help but think, “Wow. Fuck Garfield.”

  This was the best Monday of his life.