The Cat

When my oldest daughter was in first grade she was begging for a cat. I sympathized with her because I like cats and I realized she had seen quite a few changes in her life lately. She had changed schools, had a little brother and sister in the past two years, and moved into a new house. Why not get the kid a cat?

My husband hates cats and told me there was no way we were going to get a cat. His exact words were, “Do not bring a cat in this house”. I pulled our daughter out of school to get the cat from the vet’s office. She named it Star and fell in love with it instantly. My son thought it was very cute and cuddly, and my youngest daughter thought it was something to squeeze. My youngest, who we will refer to as “The Blonde”, tried to call Star the Kitty. Star was a hard name for her to pronounce with her toddler abilities. Kitty must have been somewhat of a struggle since she called it Shitty.

After about two hours I realized this was going to be another job for me. The kids were constantly messing with that damn cat. Allow me to give you a rundown of the phrases I repeated to the kids about 6,000 times a day:

Don’t squeeze the cat.
The cat does not like being dressed up.
Let the cat sleep.
Don’t eat the cat’s food.
Who put the tutu on the cat?
Do not throw the cat.
The cat’s bottom is no place for your finger.
Don’t lick the cat.
Who put the cat in the ice maker?!?!?!?!

The Blonde was the one who put the cat in the ice maker. We have a stand alone ice maker in the kitchen, which has never worked since this incident. That is why I was not surprised when The Blonde came into my bedroom crying and screaming one day that the shitty bit her. That was when my mothering instinct kicked in and I told her, “If I were the shitty I’d bite you too!”

About six months later we left for our anniversary trip. The kids stayed with my mother-in-law and someone else was supposed to watch the cat. Star was meant to be let out once a day and have his water and food refreshed. When we returned we learned that Star had been missing since day two.

Shitty got his shit and left.

This is not the end of the story, but this particular outcome was probably best for all involved. I have my suspicions that Star lives in a house in our neighborhood with a very nice elderly woman. He is now a fat house cat. I hope he is fat because he gets plenty of food and love, and not because he has to be on Zoloft.

Thank you for reading my post and I hope you feel better about yourself.