Suddenly, there are cats in my yard. There have probably always been cats in the neighborhood (I know there's one in the house in the back, because young M saw a groundhog chase it through the fence one time in what was no doubt a highly embarrassing moment for that cat, the kind where you really hope no one is watching, particularly no one with a video camera and a Youtube account.) and I guess there were others as well. Now they're all hanging around in the back yard, looking innocent and wronged when the dogs bark furiously at them. I assume that through their super secret cat powers, they have intuited that there is now a kitten living in my house and they want to meet her. Or eat her, which is my fear.
The kitten cannot be an inside only cat. Yeah, I know that being indoors only is better for cats and outside is a scary place full of real risks for kittehs, but unfortunately little Pebble has moved to a house that already contains two large dogs and if those dogs can't get themselves in and out of the house I'll go insane, so Pebble is just going to have to be an indoor/outdoor kitteh too. Nobody wants me to go insane, even me, even though if I was insane certain portions of my life might be much, much easier to bear. More insane, I mean. Than I already am. However, I'm not planning on getting to some peaceful form of madness by letting the dogs in and out all day, every day. I'd rather do it with high quality hallucinogens and besides, I'd have to quit my job.
Still, letting Pebble outside scares me. She is so little and the outside is so big. Yes, I know, I tossed my toddlers out into the world with less concern, but I'm older now. Besides, they were surprisingly hard to lose and I didn't have to worry about hawks swooping down and carrying them off. Pebble is completely different, very cute, kettle of fish. Do you know how CUTE she is? Yesterday she climbed a tree, partway, until I rescued her and she's started playing with the dogs like a puppy, which is so OMG TEH KYOOT that I think I will go into some kind of diabetic coma and die of sweetness. This is not like me but so far, the only rotten things she's done are attack my feet under the sheet in the bed and climb my legs. These things are painful but not really rotten in the same way I will consider it rotten the first time she pisses on my clean laundry because I got the wrong kind of food (I have had cats before, god help me.)
I have no conclusion, here. Pebble goes out, she comes in, I freak out, I close the door, the house gets hotter and the dogs look at me reproachfully, I open the door, Pebble goes out, I freak out and then the cycle is repeated. I suppose it's good to have a routine.
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1 comment:
For gods sake, let the cat out. Darwin didn't invent natural selection for nothing, you know.
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