Dear Carl,
I know Spring starts tomorrow. I know that there is a deeply-rooted urge in you to go out and shag all the fine-looking girl kitties you can find. But you cannot go outside. You know this.
The #1 reason why is that you are a proud and dedicated nudist. That’s partially our fault, for not insisting you wear a collar early on. We’re two-and-a-half years into our lives together and you’ve been naked all this time. To insist you wear a collar at this point would be futile, I think.
The #2 reason why you cannot go outside is because you are extremely handsome and someone would scoop up your naked self and take you in. I would be extremely sad about this, and I refuse to even imagine what Jillian would do. You’ve seen us freak out when we can’t find you, right? Imagine that, multiplied by seventeen squintillion, plus one. You do have an identifying microchip embedded in your body (does that make you a cyborg? I think it does), but you are just so handsome, I doubt anyone would question too closely from whence you came.
The #3 reason why you cannot go outside is really something I didn’t want to have to tell you. But, sweetie – your parts no longer work. That faucet is turned off. The factory is shut down. The supply chain is broken. You have no balls. I don’t mean that in the “you’re a pussy” way, even though you are technically a pussy [cat], but your wee kitty balls were surgically shut down. I’m sorry to tell you this. And I’m a little bit sad that your incredible handsomeness will not be passed down to another generation of kittehs. Responsible pet ownership requires certain sacrifices, you see.
So even though I know your dearest wish at the moment is to get outside, I really can’t let you go out there. The best I can do is give you a sunny window with a view of the neighbor’s chimney where all those birds live. It’s TV For Cats!
Love,
The Human