August 27, 2004
Cats Must Die
Everything was fun yesterday. The cats just chilled out all day long, and they appreciated the ocassional scratch around the neck. Martha even purred. Carrying both cats (one in each arm), however, turned out to be a challenge when it was time to leave and lock up. My keys were in my pocket, so I sat Martha down to lock the deadbolt. I kept her at bay with my leg, but she tired of that and hopped over my foot. I took her sister (Mary) into the car and turned to call Martha. She was running away from me. If left alone for a night, surely she'd be killed. I sprinted after her (which was 1.5 hours after a mile run for the first time in a long time, so my muscles expressed their anger) and rounded the second corner at high speed, running past her as she stopped behind a bush in the front. Smart cat. I picked her up and talked to her in a cheerful voice, scolding her ever so gently.
When I put her in the car and got in, I smelled it. Cat urine is a horrible smell. I asked Mary if she did a deed in my car, looked around and then down at my shirt -- soaked. I brought it up to smell, noticing my pants were soaked, too. Yep, cat urine. I got out of the car and washed my shirt real good with the hose. I left it there to dry. I'll probably have to throw it away, because that smell doesn't go away easily. I drove home barechested and with a cat standing up to look out the window -- drawing attenting to our car, which was driven by a big belly-ed barechested man. Lots of fun.
Tommy, our neighborhood stray, sits on the fence in the backyard and gets tormented by mockingbirds. He is a wimp. If I was a cat, I tell ya, I'd beat the living daylights out of Martha and I'd kill birds that fly that close to me.
But I'm not a cat, so I will try to pay attention to those people around me, noticing ways I can meet their needs or bless them. If I can somehow do that, then my joy will increase.
Posted by Doug Van Pelt at August 27, 2004 09:42 AM