Rub His Belly?

John and Chat left for Laguna Seca this morning. John will be in race car driving school for a week and Chat said she will be enjoying the beach view for a week. Me, I'm stuck with their stupid cat. I didn't ask for this assignment but Chat knows how to work me and appeal to my conscience; She was teary eyed talking about Tigger being left in the cat hotel while they're gone. "Tigger will be traumatized being put in that cage and he will be more depressed when we get back." I tried to avoid eye contact when she said that, but I said, "That stupid cat is depressed? Why didn't you leave him at Petco?, why did you have to take him home?"

Chat and I don't have the typical mother-daughter relationship (though she acts more like the mother at times) we're just crazy buddies. "Mom, I'll take Tigger back to Petco on our way to take you to the nursing home." With that comment, I agreed quick to babysit Tigger.
She gave me written instructions on what to do: he gets canned tuna every other day, he only likes to play with his toy bird, he needs to be brushed and wiped with this lavender smelling wipes. I thought this is crazy because we have this cat in Cebu that I kept throwing over the fence hoping he'd get lost, and now I have to do this for Chat's cat like I'm a spa worker?

I am not maternal, I know. But if I thought that was too much, her instructions only got more wild. Rub his belly, he really likes that. I don't even rub Buddha's belly, and it's supposed to bring you good luck.