 |
| Liliana standing near said clutter |
My housekeeping skills suck monkey balls as anyone who knows me will agree. However I am more of a sloppy type and my messes are more like piles of books all over the place, baskets overflowing with half completed yarn things and reams of papers and files from ideas that I want to try. I try to keep food stuff in its place so naturally I was a bit skeeved and truly perturbed when I heard the scratch, scratch, scratch that comes with a critter. The first time I saw said critter The Bee and I were home from school and work and she pointed to one hiding out under some boxes. That day I did a whole cleaning thing, got rid of clutter that I had had sitting around and called my exterminator who promptly laid traps and poison. For a while The Bee and I were uber careful and neat to the point of compulsion. Dishes washed and cleaned as soon as we ate, floors swept and mopped* along with meals and a general decluttering of the crap that I had been moving from room to room in the hopes that 'someone could use it' and 'I need to get to the Salvation Army' but despite driving past it on my way to Mom's never quite loading the car.
Two weeks ago I again heard the scratch, scratch, scratch as well as observed some scurrying that had me screaming like a two year old girl. The Bee famously** left the lunch I packed for her in the bag that she had carried that day in the porch and it had attracted a mouse. Each time I would relax I would hear it scratching again. Despite being a grown woman of considerable size, I was still whimpering like a baby as I threw a dozen shoes at the noise, carried a pot and pan to bang on whenever I walked through the house and harassed poor Effin Guy and anyone else who possessed night owl tendencies as I would chat them up on the telephone for hours as my body would refuse to relax and I would find myself scared and my sleepness nights now were due to a tiny mouse as opposed to my massive other worries.
Don't stop reading...
...there's more to see!
Nodding at my desk the next day I thought of other options. After yet another all nighter and a cranky day at work, I called my sister and begged to borrow one her cats, Fat Mittens or Midnight. She was reluctant but agreed that I could pick one up after work if I must. She also suggested I try her neighbors whose cat had had a couple of litters of cats and they were looking to give one away. I considered the Animal Friends of Lansdowne but my friend Spotti Dotti unwittingly slashed that idea when she told me the requirements the group had for adopting an animal. Home visit, vet references, interviewing people that know me? Who did they think I was? Michael Vick? I could call Mark again but it seemed as if the traps and poison were undisturbed. In fact kept joking that perhaps I should lie down near the traps as the mice seemed to have done such a great job avoiding them. The idea of a cat of our own was very seductive but The Bee has allergies and what kind of mother was I to willingly bring an allergen into her environment? Oh, but what was worse? My kid sneezing from a cat or flea bitten from a mouse.
Catgate, as I began to think of it, took up much residence in my head. I worried what my mom would say. No, she does not live with me but she does have much influence over me. She hates cats and had urged against getting one in the past. Those nasty mice made me feel like the world's messiest everything. Plus the responsibility of a pet! I didn't think I would be responsible enough to not have a cat house. You know what a cat house is: house that you walk in and immediately know of the existence of a cat due to an eu de litter box fragrance as well as the fine haze of fur that always seems to permeate the air of some cat owners. Plus, I would totally be a cliche! Singlish *** library type who crochets now has a cat! All I would need were a bun, cardigan and sensible shoes to complete the picture. Sheesh! My worries over what people thought were quickly quieted when I found myself snapping at a coworker, about go nuts on some kid playing Dora and forgetting to make copies that I needed for a craft.
When I went to borrow Fat Mittens or Midnight I incorrectly assumed an easy exchange from my BIL but was surprised at the level of attitude he gave me! Instead of a flat out NO he encouraged me to visit his neighbors who had had a litter of kittens and had a
 |
| The Bee and Liliana watching a video |
The Bee is a tad scared of her. Hell, if we hadn't had cats growing up I would be afraid also. Liliana Cupcake does that thing al cats do in which she tears through the house at top speed only to skid to a stop and attack your foot. So far so good with the allergies although I am thinking that I may need to invest in a Dustbuster.
It's been a pleasure being a cat owner again. I do find that I am more responsible about the litter pan, have only had to yell once about a table top and most importantly HAVE NOT heard the scratch, scratch, scratch that comes with critters.
*Swiffered.
**She is to take her lunch bag to the kitchen each afternoon she's with me as a part of unpacking, settling routine. We're still working on it.
***No disrespect to Effin Guy but dating is not married.
****Why oh why do cat owners always want to share a story about their cats lying on the stove or jumping on the counter to watch them cook? Blech!
