Curiosity Killed the Cat

I know that is how the saying goes. I only wish it were true in my case. That sounds awful. Let me explain.

I have a friend (Hey Nancy) who loves animals. She even majored in Zoology. She had a post recently about her chicken that lives in her window well. It made me laugh. She is just so witty and clever. Who could make writing about a chicken in a window well funny, well, she can. So, when I write this post, I realize it isn't going to be witty or clever. I am going to come across as anything but charming....because I, unlike Nancy, do not love animals, nor do I even remotely like them; in fact, I shun away from them. My biggest fear in this story was actually finding the animal and having to touch it. I definitely would have had to enlist the help of some of the neighbors.

I have always disliked animals. Even as a child. I used to have a cat that liked to sleep on my bed and I would take my covers and like the big parachute game we all played in P.E. I would send that cat flying like the ball in the middle. When we went on our cruise to the Caribbean, we were told swimming with the stingrays was a must. So my husband and I decided to give it a try. I got in the water and very careful get my extremities close to me and as a stingray got closer, I inched a way. I finally got back in the boat and watched from above. I got some great pictures of Brett though. The thought of something touching me in the water gives me the heebie jeebies. I used to hate waterskiing for that very reason.

I have had a stray cat who comes and goes living in my backyard. I don't really care all that much other than the number of droppings it has left behind to let me know it is there. Drives me crazy that I can't even walk in my backyard without watching where I step. Good thing the snow has melted so I can go clean it up.

A few weeks ago I sent the kids out back to play. Kk came bolting in screaming and crying with Princess hot on her tails. I thought for sure someone had died. The verdict: the "titty tat". It had gone bolting out of the playhouse sandbox when it realized its shelter was being invaded by a bunch of loud children. I had to laugh. My kids are all extremely afraid of animals.

Friday as I went out to get in my car I found some of those droppings I was talking about, in my garage. The kids had left the garage opened for a little bit the day before. I guess curiosity got the better of the cat and it invited itself into my garage. I was watching tv that night when I heard a clang coming from the garage. I quickly went to investigate and when I opened the garage door I saw the cat run into the ultimate chaos of our garage. There would be no way of finding that night. I finally decided if I wanted to salvage anything from my garage I should try and get it out before it did its bodily functions all over the place. Eleven o'clock at night and I am out there in pj's, both garage doors open, beating my stuff with a broom. It must have been a sight to behold.

No luck. I thought it was out. I had checked its usual hiding place in the back yard a couple of times but never found it. Two nights later I heard yowling and moaning that I have never heard before. I googled what happens when a cat is in labor, and I was convinced that the cat was going to have kittens in my garage. And there was nothing I could do about it because there was no way I could find it.

The next morning I decided I had to tackle this problem. And so I looked. And looked. And looked. No cat. I was convinced I was going to find the dead body of the cat because it had starved to death, but didn't even find that.

And then. I went to the backyard and peeked into the sandbox. And up came those glowing green eyes oh so gently and a little purr.

When I had asked Kk if she wanted to help me find the cat she told me no because it is scary. After I told her I had found it she kept telling me the titty tat was hungry and that I needed to feed it. Ha ha, fat chance. I don't want a cat, but the question is....do you?