Wednesday, September 15, 2010
So we do a Good Thing. Kid brings home kitten he finds while visiting a friend. Worried that if the cat is left behind he will surely be coyote bait. Kid thinks cat can go to no kill shelter. I dispose him of that notion quick, the no kill shelters are full. Cat is too far past the fluffy kitten stage and rather ugly, no way will he find a home in a kill shelter. So I strike a deal with kid, he pays for shots and neutering, I'll pick up the tab on litter and food, since I'm doing it for the others. Cat is sweet and friendly which proves he knows who to suck up to. No problem with the litter box.
Except...having lived a feral life he thinks he still needs to forage for food. I see a bag of marshmallows float by and think I'm dreaming. Except there is a small cat on the other end. Hot dogs disappear from the kitchen counter.
He attacks and rides the vacuum cleaner, beats the crap out of the dogs and hisses at the horses. He can open any door, unzip any zipper and untie any knot.
Toilet paper is his crack.
I buy those huge industrial packages of TP and paper towels from the warehouse stores. He can shred through one of those in minutes, reducing everything to bits of fluff.
Having lived with cats, I've always been careful to put breakables up high and keep valuables put away. I have never had to keep toilet paper in safekeeping.
The CatFather ignores him, BitchyCat runs from him.
It's been a long day at work and I just want to go home, put my feet up and watch Judge Judy with the CatFather.
The house is demolished. Like the cats had a party while the humans were gone. The food cupboard doors are open. My dresser drawers are pulled out and my clothes are all over the floor. It looks like it snowed in the bathroom and all that's left on the spindle is the cardboard. We're either going to have to wipe with the confetti or put to use all of those extra Cabela's catalogs.
I don't think we saved the cat that day.
We saved the coyotes.