I’m attempting to raise non-wimpy children

But it can be difficult when you actually are a wimp.  I’m trying anyway.  (Mostly because I’m such a massive wimp that if my husband isn’t home I need the aforementioned children to dispose of any animal/insect life that I come in contact with.)  The second reason I’m trying is because I don’t want them to be as wimpy as I am.

I start the de-wimpification process by attempting to show that whatever is making my brain hyperventilate is not a big deal.  (I wanted to be an actor when I was in Junior High so in a way I’m actually living out a childhood dream.)  Usually they see through my attempts but I flatter myself … not always.  (Unless the creature has wings including butterflies! If it has wings in an enclosed space I am willing to sacrifice any child within reach!)

I’m not really a fan of coming into contact with any animal life … except as food or on TV.  Exception:  I think kittens are adorable.  Cats are tolerable.  I’m no longer a teenager so horses hold no allure for me.  Birds scare me.  And it goes downhill from there.

And so, it was with delight, that when I opened my front door last week to put Will on his bus, I found a chewed up mouse.  A gift from Brianne’s kitty to her.   (Considering that the cat has been outside for less than a month I’m worried that multiple corpses of dead birds and rodents will be lovingly placed at my front door!)

I immediately pounded on Brianne’s door, told her I was leaving in an hour and the bloody corpse better be gone before I had to leave again  … it was.

On a positive note Brianne is learning responsibility because I take no responsibility for deposing of dead things or finding someone to feed her cat while we are on vacation.

On a completely unrelated note does anyone want a cat? … Or small dead creatures?

Traumatizing Brianne’s Cat

I think I traumatized Kitty more than she’s ever been in her life and that includes taking her away from her mother!  She had a vet appointment and hasn’t ridden in a car for months.  I think I thought this car ride would be just like that one but didn’t take into consideration that 1. She’s not a kitten anymore and 2. No one was holding the box on their lap.

I put her in a box.  I found a build a bear box.  “Perfect!”  I thought, “It has a hole so she can breathe and a handle for carrying.  Unfortunately, I didn’t take into consideration it was designed for transporting stuffed animals rather than real ones.  I buckled the box into a seat and one minute later Kitty came and visited me.  How relieved I felt that the box was safe for the ride.

I didn’t take Kitty straight to the vet because I like to complicate things.  I dropped her off at my friend Karen’s house she would kitty-sit for an hour.  “She can stay in her box for the whole hour.”  I offered.  Karen said she didn’t need to.  That was fortunate because when I tried to put her back into her traveling box she refused.  I could have forced her but I really needed a third hand and I only had two available.  I carried her into Karen’s house.  After watching Lizzy read her Beethoven biography project I returned for the cat.  I didn’t try putting her into the box this time, I carried her to the car.  But I wrapped myself in a blanket before I picked her up … she hated being in the car.

We got to the vet’s ten minutes early.   I carried Kitty into to the waiting room.  There were three dogs there!  Kitty’s heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst from her chest!  She was shaking with fear.  I took her out.  I walked around to the back door to talk to someone.  There was another dog!  I told them we would wait in the car.  We waited for 50 minutes.

She got shots.  The office probably smelled like dog.  She had to ride in a car multiple times.  She was put in a box.  She was left with a stranger.  She saw 4 DOGS!  WORST. DAY. EVER!  I tried to pet her yesterday after we got home.  She kind of froze with fear.  She didn’t run away but was really suspicious.  I’m going to have to feed her a significant amount of meat to get her to trust me again.

I might have a touch of Kitty Remorse

Her name is Calypso. Her mom is named Saturn and the kitties were all named after Saturn’s moons. Clever, no? Bri is in LOVE with her kitty! She has video and her phone is full of kitty pictures.

Brianne’s kitty is adorable but I have a touch of buyer’s remorse. I only agreed to get the kitty because we had mice in our garage and that completely FREAKED me out! (My body just contorted as I thought about that!) But my husband, vicious mouse killer that he is, trapped all the mice and we have been mouseless for several weeks. I considered backing out but I’m just too darned tender hearted!

Reasons for Remorse: 1. The kitty can’t go outside for the winter because it’s a baby. 2. I’ve already spent $100 bucks on the kitty and haven’t even taken it to the vet yet. 3. I have kitty guilt because I sometimes hear pitiful mews coming from the inside of Bri’s room while Bri is gone. 4. I’ll have to take care of the kitty while Bri is in college. 5. Apparently 20% of my friends are allergic to cats. 6. I worry that Will and Jake are allergic to cats. 7. I need a special cat door to keep raccoons, squirrels and neighborhood cats out of the garage. 8. I can think of more reasons but I think the ones I’ve listed suffice for now.

On the plus side, I talked to someone last night who I think might take the kitty if my kids are allergic and good mother that I am I negotiated visitation rights for Bri.