(Read the previous installment, “The Kitten Psychologist vs. The Kitten’s Owners” here)
Dear kitten,
I would absolutely love to speak with you, but your humans, as you say, have decided I can’t ever see you. You’ll have to deal with the tumblr thing on your own.
Sincerely,
Your psychologist
Dear psychologist human,
There is no reason to be rude with me. As you see perfectly well, we can talk through email. Your payment will be minimal to none as a result, but I still need your help, so you are still my psychologist.
My current dilemma has less to do with tumblr and more to do with the conversation you had with my humans. I overheard you, you know. What is this nonsense about cats not being moral? We are most certainly moral. Explain this to me.
I also seem to be having difficulties accessing my humans’ bank account. Do you have any solutions to that?
Sincerely,
You know who
Dear kitten,
That’s… not really how being a psychologist works. It’s a job. I need to get paid.
And, while I disagree with your owners on principle, your last paragraph sort of proves their point.
Sincerely,
Your psychologist
Dear psychologist human,
Thank you for Skyping with me. Finally. I hope you now understand the unfeasibility of my obtaining employment (not to mention a bank account of my own) in order to pay you. This really isn’t a moral matter so much as a pragmatic one.
I am a kitten. And I live in a world where kittens cannot get jobs. I, therefore, cannot get paid. You will have to help me, regardless.
Meanwhile, I’ve noticed my humans are more attentive to me of late. Not in the way I like. They have been keeping me from doing as I please in regards to electronics and leaving the house. Speaking to them about the matter has changed nothing.
How do I convince them that I am perfectly capable and trustworthy enough to be left on my own?
Sincerely,
You know who
Dear kitten,
If you’re actually going to take any advice I give, you’re going to pay me. Or work something else out. Otherwise, you’re telling me that you’re not trustworthy and that working for you isn’t working for you. It’s you using me.
Which, while I’m being perfectly honest with you, is what you’ve been doing with your owners.
Sincerely,
Your psychologist
Dammit. Maybe I shouldn’t have worded that so strongly, but I’d sent it before I could stop myself. I’d been emailing my friends, too. They wanted to know how to deal with their kitten, and I’d agreed to give them free sessions in exchange for keeping the money the kitten had paid me from their bank account.
It was one of those things you know is a bad idea, but you’re too worried about what might happen if you don’t that you say yes to it anyways.
Those sessions were… hard. They’re my friends, but I had to be their psychologist instead and, let me tell you, telling your friends to solve their own problems doesn’t ever go over very well. Especially when they’re dead set against it. All they wanted to do was figure out what to do to get the kitten to do what they wanted. All I wanted was to get them out of my office before I yelled at them.
I freak out over my finances too much. If I hadn’t, I never would have been in this situation. Now, if I could just get a time machine and go tell my past self that, that would be great.
Oh. A new email. Great.
Dear psychologist human,
And how, exactly, do you propose I “work something else out”?
Sincerely,
You know who
I could always turn off my computer and pretend I hadn’t read that. Or that my email had glitched and I’d never received the message.
Except that I’m doing that thing where I’m trying to get out of this darn mess.
Dear kitten,
Talk to your owners about it. And don’t let them tell you you’re not able to do anything. The moment you’re feeling helpless or powerless or incapable is the moment you’ve started going in the wrong direction.
Sincerely,
Your psychologist
Dear psychologist human,
I am never helpless, powerless, or incapable. I am a feline. But I will speak to them, since you obviously didn’t know what you meant in the first place.
Sincerely,
You know who
I’m never going to get over getting emails from a kitten that’s basically telling me it’s Voldemort. It’s certainly mean enough to be him. I wrote an angry reply which I deleted right afterwards as I sat back in my chair and sighed.
Seven or so more deleted angry replies later, another email arrived in my inbox. Two emails, actually.
Dear psychologist human,
You have a devious mind. I like you.
Sincerely,
You know who
And then, from my friends:
You’re not going to believe what our kitten just did. Can we have our next session earlier in the week?
I’m not sure what to feel about this.
…
I’m really not sure what to feel about this.
To my friends:
I’m open on Wednesday between 3pm and 5pm. Does that work for you?
It’s amazing what you can do on autopilot.
From my friends:
Yes, 3pm. This can’t wait.
Uh oh. What did the kitten go and do now?
And how am I going to get out of this with my skin intact?
Perhaps the penultimate installment will have answers…
*The graphic for this series was created by Amy Laurens :)