I am locked in a battle of wills and I so don’t need it.
As if three children and a business aren’t enough to take care of, I now have to worry about our cat.
The Girl wanted a pet. We borrowed my sister’s dog and quickly found we are not ready for a dog and children-too many moving parts. I still harbor deep feelings for our old dog so I am also not ready to love again. We got a cat because they are low maintenance. Feed, clean a box, trim claws, snuggle, repeat. That is how it should go and it did for a while. Wendell the cat is even very canine-y, so we got the added bonus of him greeting us at the door and following us around with dog-like adoration.
Then, we moved and like everything else, our cat went crazy.
He decided he wanted to be an outdoor cat. He refused to use the litter box and found every crack and crevice in the house to relieve himself.
He felt so strongly that he broke out window screens and ran out the door whenever it opened-resulting in three crazy kids chasing him and me following them screaming, “get back in here you’ll freeze, get wet, get hit by a car” etc.
I don’t “get” outdoor cats. I am a dog person. Why have a pet that you never see except when he needs food? Don’t I already have enough needy one-way relationships in my life? Geez-is it too much to ask for a little purring and leg rub in return for feeding and maintenance? Plus, the thought of my pet messing in somebody’s yard, or garden or driveway-makes me crazy with stress! So I fought the good fight. I cleaned cat poop from all manner of interesting places. I wondered where the pee was. I obsessively monitored closet doors to make sure they were securely closed at all times.
Then, I got tired of fixing windows and squawking at my kids like a crazy housewife so I gave in to his outdoor tendencies. I got him a collar that he chewed it off-twice. I worried that he would get scooped up by animal control as they seem to roam our neighborhood daily. But I let him roam anyway.
Then he got in numerous cat fights. One which resulted in a $400 vet bit. He spent a week indoors to heal and began using the litter box again.
He got out again.
Then he brought home fleas.
He is not an outdoor cat anymore.
So here I sit with him glaring at me, yelling (meowing) at me incessantly and tripping over him as he speed races through the house every time he thinks he hears the door open.
The fourth child is a hand full when he’s angry.
Thank goodness he’s not a 70 pound German Shepherd.
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