* Please do not continue reading if you have an aversion to felines or those who adore them. Thank you. Good day.
OK, it’s just us. Get this! I had a great friend over yesterday for a cup of joe and some lemon sponge. On her way out, we lingered at the door doing the goodbye chitchat and as I turn to go back inside I notice my oldest cat (Cat#1) tiptoeing along the top of the radiator in the hall near the door trying to stick his little nose out.
Now, I’m one of those indoor cat people. I suffer guilt daily at not letting them outside but I don’t believe in cats outside in the city – town, in my case. And now, living in Ireland, I really don’t trust drivers to stop for cats. There’s a different mentality here with regards to cats. They are very much treated as a throw away pet and my two gorgeous boys are NOT throw aways.
Back to Cat#1 and his, loosely planned, Great Escape
. SO he’s angling to get a sniff of the outside world and possibly make a run for it. When in reality, he’s a bit of a
scaredy-cat. Of course I pick him up and cuddle him close and take a little walk down the front path to the gate letting him suck in the smells of spring.
Seeing his little nose and feeling his heart beat a little faster with excitement made my heart shatter.
We both carried on with our days. I’m just used to the self-inflicted guilt of being an indoor cat keeper so I didn’t think anything of it. Until 5:30 am when I woke up sobbing. I mean my pillow was soaked and my husband even woke up to console me.
I can’t remember the exact dream but i know it was on repeat and I just kept seeing Cat#1 runaway. Over and over. It was horrible.
So, I went for a pee, washed my face, heard some cat wrestling noises from the kitchen, took a peek, went back to bed. All is good.
Woke up 3 hours later with knots of guilt still lingering in me. Bottom of the stairs and there’s my iPod, some hats and a panicked Cat#2 meowing up at me. I open the laundry room door to hang some jackets and there he is, Hurricane Cat#1.
We don’t let our cats in certain rooms. But having an OCD husband who checks every window and door twice before retiring for the night, leaves a lot of sneaky cat opportunities of getting into these unauthorized spaces.
Opportunity knocked for Cat#1 last night and what I now call the Payback Disaster of 2012. Boy did he rip that room into shreds. I no longer feel any guilt.
Yes, I thought for a second about cleaning it up but I’m not the one who locked him in there.
I, cheerily, yelled upstairs for a certain someone to come down immediately, please.
Left the door ajar and put the kettle on.
Mama needs some caffeine.