A problem involving the felines
I have a problem. I actually have four problems. Well, to be honest, I have a lot more than that, but for purposes of this letter I will confine myself to four. The four problems are my four cats.
Now, I realize that since you are the alter ego of Betsy, who "gotnocats", you might also "gotnocats", and cats may be the last thing you wish to think about. However, I am desperate. My cats are ruining my life. We started out with two cats, brothers raised from kittenhood. One got sick and died. The other was lonely. So we got another cat to keep him company. All was well. Shoulda stopped there.
Oh, the cats. They take up so much space on the Internet and in our homes and thoughts too. Well, not mine, but I've heard of cats before, although I find them so very confusing. Not to stray from your problems, but I saw something on Craigslist yesterday about free cat food -- a huge costly bag, being given away, because the cat doesn't like that kind anymore. Huh? Do the freeloading animals get to be so picky? (Do I sound like that irritable grandparent, "In MY day, the kids ate what was on the table or we mailed it directly to the starving children in India...") But seriously, which is the pet and which is the owner in that scenario?
The other thing that creeps me out about cats, as I've noted, is that they seem like they have locked in syndrome, where they're totally aware but can't communicate verbally, and they stare at you when you talk as if you're saying something dumb. Gives me the willies.
I have no idea what to suggest to a kind person like yourself who's willing to take in angry, aggressive, orphaned cats that bully the family cats. No idea at all. Your problem seems so complicated, like that brain-teaser with the fox, the chickens, the farmer, the feed, and the rowboat. But, as I'm just getting this whole advice biz off the ground and I want to look like I know what I'm doing, I'll fake an answer.
Fill the five quart container, and pour it into the three quart container. This will leave two cups. Voila! Oh, wait, I think that's the answer to a different problem. Lemme try again.
I suggest that you move. You and your husband can find a sweet little house for just the two of you, and let the cats work it out amongst themselves. You'll be like children who grow up and move away and can't keep cats anymore. The felines can live in the big house and pay the damn mortgage and deal with all the hassles of home ownership like trying to get someone to put gutters on the house, GRR, for like, 20 years while the house rots, and they can figure out how to change the light bulbs and drag the garbage can all the way down to the road and greet the Jehovah's Witnesses when they come to proselytize and clean the shower every so often. See if they have the guts to be so angry when they're actually in charge. Kind of like the republicans. Meanwhile, you and your husband will be blissfully enjoying an uncluttered tiny little home overlooking the water with just the perfect amount of things, nothing extra, and you'll love your home so much that you'll give it an ironic name like, oh, I don't know what, you'll think of something because you'll have a bunch more brain space available without this cat war. And you'll spend your days sitting on the porch sipping beverage of choice, watching the sun go down and the moon come up and waiting for the cats to grow thumbs. And guess what? It will be too small to host thanksgiving. Oh well. AND, with all the time that the cats have freed up, you and your person can play this game.
PS. Your letter was just the right length.
PPS. I didn't automatically put you in the Witness Protection Program, but I did put your name in quotes. Does that help?