Sunday, April 26, 2009

Do Not Go Out There!

I stepped out of the door at the side of our house - right into what resembled a war zone. There were bodies and parts all over the place! One could barely take a step without coming in contact with one of them.

Just at the foot of the steps, inside the garage, lay a torso... another slumped in the corner ... yet another lay baking eerily in the April sun.

The horrific scene was enough to make one scream - "Oh the HUMANITY!-"

. . . except they weren't humans, these nameless victims of some hideous act.

They were lizards.

Apparently they were all the victims of a murderous feline frenzy, each one met a tragic end at the hands -er PAWS of our cat. To further exacerbate the cruel irony she goes by the name of "Angel".

As noted in an earlier post - I am not "cat- people". In fact, while I appreciate the fact that they tend to fend off snakes and other reptiles that move and look enough like snakes to make me hurt myself before I can discern that they are harmless - I don't really like their killer instinct.

The cat and I seem to have something of an understanding these days ...

. . she understands that I am the one dissenting vote against her in this family
. . . and she also understands that that doesn't matter.

Since I am scolded for the times that I treat her like an animal, I am trying to be more congenial toward her.
That being said, I don't know how I am supposed to respond to these "gifts".

I mean cats have feelings... they can get embarrassed, they can be coy and they can pout and I have heard of some cats that can be particularly spiteful in their vengeance... in fact it rivals the fury of a woman scorned!
So I am aware of her sensitivities, but much like the female creature of our own species - I don't always know how I should respond.

Okay, I usually don't know how I should respond. . . okay almost never...

R. and I had a cat before children... it was a guy-cat and he was a little easier to figure. In fact, he and I grew to be pretty good com padres.

We chased each other through the house (one of the things I yell at my kids about these days) and he could be a ruthless opponent - but he didn't have a lot of that killer instinct.

He seldom brought us things he had killed. Actually, I think he was a little squeamish.
On more than one occasion I looked out the window at night to see him perched somewhere, watching a opossum eating from his bowl.

"live and let live" seemed to be his motto, so I just haven't had to deal with all this mortality.

It is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma (apologies to Winston Churchill)! If I do away with these bodies, will that violate her sensitivities? Will she pout and possibly mistake my sofa for her litter-box!?!

Suppose she is maladjusted and becomes so distraught over my rejection of her "gifts" that she casts herself before some oncoming steam-roller. What kind of repercussions would that have between my family and me now - a relationship that has already had its back sets because of said cat.

Or perhaps she is co-dependent and will feel that she is just not killing enough small woodland creatures or the right kind of animals. That will just lead to more killings.
Then we get the animal rights folks all up in arms!

Oh she'd like that...

...Life has gotten a lot more complicated since we got a cat!

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