To The Person Who Found My Camera

Dear Sir/Madam:
First of all, I’d like to congratulate you on the acquisition of a Casio Exilim S20 compact digital camera. No doubt it was an exciting find after your fine meal at Houston’s on Park, where delicious spinach dip is the signature item.
As you may have noticed, the Casio Exilim is a 2.0 Megapixel beauty with a 4X digital zoom. At under a half-inch thick, it’s the perfect camera to put in your pocket and lose while dining out.
No doubt, you’re wondering why the memory card contains 17 close-ups of a cat’s ass.

I will explain, but first I’d like to make it perfectly clear that I am not attracted to cats, nor do I have any kind of collection of cat derrieres. I have no political or artistic statement to make. I am not trying to turn a tawdry collection of feline bungs into a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts. All my cat relationships have been platonic and I did not in any way derive pleasure from having said photos in my possession.
I’m sure the discovery of 17 close-up shots of a cat’s ass were surprising for you, to say the least. Possibly unnerving. Maybe they were wholly upsetting. Honestly, I’m not sure how I would react either. I can only hope you discovered the shots after you finished the delicious spinach dip – Houston’s signature item. If you did not, you have my apologies as well as my camera.
Regardless of the shot capacity of a 256-Megabyte memory card you’ve no doubt been asking yourself, and anyone in your proximity, why someone would ever be carrying 17 shots of a cat’s ass on his or her person. Indeed, that’s 17 cat ass shots too many, and quite a tough thing to accept or comprehend. Perhaps you’ve considered moving to another country so as to not be so uncomfortably close to such a person.
Rest assured, you have nothing to fear. When you discovered my camera at your feet while dining, you did not in any way stumble upon the photographic apparatus of a cat ass fanatic. I am a normal person.
The photos in question are all from the same cat – a friendly, vocal and slim feline named Teddy. Teddy is in her Golden Years. While she is still quite active, and adept at murdering furniture, she has her share of age-related health problems. If you have any elderly relatives, you know what I’m talking about. The Golden Years affect every animal. Cats are no exception, though they fall down less often.
Teddy, the cat that possesses the ass that you have 17 close-up shots of, belongs to my brother. Or perhaps I should say she “lives” with him since cats don’t seem to “belong” to anyone. They’re very independent.
Indeed, cats do their own thing. They don’t need anyone, really. Except when they have some freakish problem with their anus.
And you see, there’s the rub: Teddy’s bum. Every once in a while it acts up and requires surgery of some sort that I hope not to learn more about, ever. This surgery also results in Teddy being forced to wear a humiliating cone on her head to prevent her from licking the affected area. You’d think you wouldn’t have to be prevented from licking your behind, but as I said before: cats march to their own drummer, even if that drummer thinks the sphincter is candy.
I realize this still doesn’t adequately justify having 17 close-up shots of a cat’s ass. Allow me to explain some more.
My brother was on a trip out of town and had asked me to take care of Teddy. Normally this involves walking into the building, pretending I live there so the doorman doesn’t stop me, and making my way to his apartment. While there, I feed Teddy, refresh her water supply, refill her absurd electric cat fountain and amuse her with cat-related antics.
At no point in the routine is it normal for me to take close-up shots of her ass, I’d like to point out.
However, during one particular visit I was entertaining Teddy by turning on the bathroom faucet for her drinking pleasure. She enjoys this immensely, and as she’s in her Golden Years I try and accommodate her. She jumps from floor to toilet to counter, then sips from the running faucet, pausing on occasion to ponder the magical thing.
It was during such routine faucet play that Teddy turned and placed what’s best described as her non-frontal region directly in my face. This caused me to notice a few things, all unpleasant, one of which seemed to be swelling. I feared this might be the precursor to another unfortunate incident involving Teddy’s anus and determined that action was necessary. I’m great in crisis situations.
At the time, I owned the Casio Exilim S20 digital camera that you now possess. I do not quite recollect the thought process I had, but it was something along the lines of wanting to take a picture of Teddy’s problem to email to my brother. Though I wasn’t sure how he might react to his vacation being interrupted with an email bearing shots of his cat’s ass, I felt that it was better to be safe than sorry. I hoped only to get a visual confirmation from him as to whether or not little Teddy needed to be returned to the veterinarian for a bum scan, or whatever they do in these instances.
You are the random person who found my camera so I don’t know if you are familiar with trying to photograph cats. All I can tell you is that under the best circumstances it’s nothing short of a pain in the ass (pun not intended, but certainly appropriate). Like Montana militiamen, cats are genetically programmed for independence and have a tendency to not cooperate. You may be familiar with the old adage “curiosity killed the cat” but in this case all curiosity did was make the cat wonder why there was a digital camera in such close proximity to its ass. The end result (again, pun accepted) was 16 blurred shots and one less than perfect but good enough 2-Megapixel capture of Teddy’s pooper.
And so this, really, is why you found a Canon Exilim S20 digital camera containing 17 shots of a cat’s ass.
Fear not, the camera is all yours now. I couldn’t bear to ask for it back because I don’t want to see your face. The camera’s cradle, which I no longer have use for, will be on eBay shortly.
Teddy has made a full recovery, I hope you have too. Please believe me when I say I’m no feline Mapplethorpe.