TGIF, right? It started out like a beautiful, peaceful Friday morning. I dropped the kids off at school –on time, no less… GO ME!- and headed back into the house with #6. The plan was to take advantage of the warm sunshine by planting some flowers and enjoying the great outdoors.
But you know how it goes…
I did about 15 minutes’ worth of laundry, and came back up to the living room… to discover THIS:
Yes, the cat. You know her: Mittens, aka “Mitzie”, aka “Dammit, I JUST fed you!” (my name for her), aka “She hit me!” (#6’s name for her). She’s appeared here on the blog before via her formal complaint letter regarding our supposedly sub-par treatment of her… the brat.
Just to clarify, I love cats. I mean, looooove cats.
I blame my parents; they were also pet lovers that simply couldn’t say no to a potential new pet. So I grew up thinking this was normal:
I grew up with cats, loved cats, & even aimed to become a crazy single cat lady.
But then The Captain intervened, we had a bajillion kids instead of cats, & eventually added a single cat to our brood. A loud, whiny, demanding cat.
Mittens is an indoor cat, so like most indoor cats, she spends a good portion of time doing THIS:
Or maybe plotting??
So the window was open, and our cat was MIA. I checked every single nook & cranny of our house. I called her name, which, without fail, makes her come running. NOTHING. I shook her food can, which always makes her dash out of some obscure corner. NOTHING. (This from a cat who senses from two floors away when I pick up box of cereal at 5am…)
I ran outside, peering through our shrubs & whistling for her, with no luck. And then I knew.
I was screwed.
Two days prior, I was yelling at #2, the cat’s technical owner, to clean out the litter box. She wasn’t thrilled, and my last words on the matter were,
“If you don’t do it, I’ll give Mittens to a home with people who WILL take care of her!”
And there was going to be NO way that #2 would buy my “she ran away!” story now. I remembered all too well when my parents tried to pull that wool over the tender young eyes of my brother & I by insisting that our childhood dog had moved to a farm (she didn’t).
Or that our pet rabbit had been picked up by the mailman and brought home (umm.. I’m still not sure about that one. I suspect NAY. But we had mixed feelings about the rabbit, because it had a tendency to get overexcited when allowed the run of the yard, & would end up trying to hump the cat. Sometimes successfully. And NO KID needs to see that. So if the mailman really DID take the rabbit, I hope he didn’t have a pet cat.)
The clock was ticking; I had to find Mittens, and preferably alive, before #2 got home from school.
My mom stayed with the little guys in the house while I searched our block, calling Mitten’s name and whistling for her. The irony: Oh, I attracted cats, alright. Not mine, but I became the Pied Piper of cats for 1/2 a block as three others trailed behind me.
As time went on, I began to get more desperate; what would I do next??
My Brain: FIND THE CAT.FIND THE CAT. FIND THE DAMN CAT.
My Heart: I’m a jerk. I’m impatient with Mittens. I will be SO nice to her; please let me find her…
But then, my mom called, to tell me that Mittens was home. I rushed back. The story according to Mom:
“I decided that #5 & I should pray. So we sat in the living room praying, & asking Jesus to bring Mitzie back from wherever she was. I prayed that He is a God of all things big & small, & He knew where she was. And just as #5 said Amen… we looked up and there was Mittens. Sitting right in the middle of the living room. Staring at us.”
Ain’t God good?
I was so glad that Mittens was safe & sound, and that #2’s sweet, animal-loving heart would be spared. And I remembered my oath to be nice to the cat, which was good b/c the minute I walked in the door, she trotted to her food bowl and:
Regardless of her behavior, Mittens is part of our family, & I’m glad she’s ok. And she’s now resting up for tonight, so she can stare at a wall & then randomly tear from one room to another for no reason at 12:03am. You know, like she does every.single.night. Because, CATS.
© Copyright 2016 Six Pack Mom, All rights Reserved. Written For: Six Pack Mom