I don't like cats

Translated from Hebrew.
Finally, a relatively location-independent story that should be well understood anywhere in the world!
Editorial notes will be welcome.
Disclaimer: While I do identify with the some of the views expressed here, I do not support the actions that were taken by the silly protagonist. Please don't hate me. And I do like cats myself - I am actually obsessed about them.

I don't like cats.

It's not that I can't stand them. I don't mind petting the cats of my friends, mostly in order for them to stop bugging me: "Why don't you pet the cat? Isn't he a doll?". But I don't like their personality, and it really disturbs me that they can't be controlled.

What can we do – most people can't be controlled, but from my pets I expect total obedience. You can get such a thing from dogs, but not from cats, who enjoy scratching the sofas and then they give me a stare full of hatred when I shout on them about that. That's why I was so happy to move out – at last I was relieved from all the crazy cats of my family.

And then I met that girl.

Girls always found me interesting, but it bothered me that I couldn't know if they really love me because of who am I, or because they are attracted to me because of, ahem, my physical benefits. Only that girl was interested in my interior, and I had no doubt about that. We immediately found out that we match each other like the pot and the cover from the famous (Hebrew?) cliché. Except for one thing.

Her cats.

I tried convincing her to leave the cats at her parent's home, but there was no one to speak with. She loved them as much as she loved me, and no offer of compromise could be accepted by her. So of course that the cats joined our shared apartment, like uninvited guests. And loyal to their role at the play, they felt just like at home.

And so they intruded into my life. The hyperactive female cat who liked to jump and scratch, and her passive partner who was settled with lurking most of the time in his usual corner under the sofa, and occasionally vomiting an hairball or two.
It is so horrible, letting them in to my life, that used to be so tidy till then. It's very unpleasant feeling all the kitty litter while walking barefoot. It's disconcerting to see all the sofas, which get new scratches every morning, and don't forget the clothes and carpets, which get rewarded with a covering of kitty hair.

I couldn't stand that, and one day when my girlfriend had a long day at work, I decided to get up and take action.

I asked for a day off at work, but I didn't tell me girlfriend about that, and stayed at home.
I opened the door for the two cats, and directed them to the street. "Go out, my dear sons! Freedom awaits you!", I encouraged them. They strolled the street casually, but their nonchalant pacing turned into a frightened escape after they met the neighbour's rottweiler. I waved at them politely.

After that I messed up the house. I opened closets and threw their contents on the floor. I took my laptop and sold it in a second-hand store. I got relatively a lot of money for it. I decided that I'll think later what to do with it.

Later I sat on the scratched sofa in the middle of the mess, and waited for my love to get back.

Did they break into our apartment? They stole anything? The laptop? Are the cats okay?
I nodded in negation.

I will save from you the story of what happened during the hours following that time. I will just tell you that it's really not fun driving while your girlfriend is standing with half of her body outside the window and shouting desperately the names of her cats, hoping they'll return.

Some days after that I went back from work, while running several different scripts on how to help my girlfriend forget the loss of the cats. I though of a romantic vacation in Spain – a thing we couldn't do until now, because she didn't trust that the neighbours on feeding the demanding creatures.

When I opened the door, a grey kitten welcomed me with loud wailings.
Look what I found, my girlfriend said happily. You know that the best way to cope with loss of animals is to fill the space with other animals, and I found this kitten under my car at work. This is a sign from Elkobim, I'm telling you!

I collapsed on the chair.
"But sweetie, until we managed to get rid of the previous cats you're bringing me a new one? I wanted us to have some days of quietness!", my tongue slipped in a momentary lapse of control.

Get rid of them?? The shouts lasted for hours. I thought I managed to relax her after that, but our relationship could not last more than two weeks after that. Both of us went to two separate ways.

I went out with many other girls, but I have yet to meet a girl who matched me like that girl. Sometimes we talk over the phone until she tells me she wants to spend some quality time with her husband and her pets.

And what did I do with the money from selling the laptop, you ask? I ended up donating it to the Cat Support Association.

Based on a story that would never happen, I hope