I’m not even going to pretend I won’t write about my cat anymore.
But this post is about revenge, people.
In the past I’ve talked about how I’ve fantasized of beating her silly each time she urinates outside the box. People were really upset that I admitted to having that thought. But every mom has had the idea of wringing their child’s neck at least once, and unless you have a really uncool local police that convicts people with crimes of the mind, it’s totally normal to have those moments. So, to reiterate, I have never beaten my cat.
I beat her mentally today though.
Oh, one last fantasy. Well, the word fantasy is a bit strong. But I always thought it would be funny if I made one’s and two’s in her litter box, just to show her whose boss. I’m boss, you hear me, cat! I’m boss!
During Christmas break I was in Peoria, IL at my childhood home. Thankfully the parents still live there or I’d be camping out in some other kid’s bedroom. (that joke really bombed) Anynuts, instead of leaving my cat alone for seven days which would be borderline cruel, I decided to take her to the groomer. Not to be groomed, mind you, but to be boarded.
The groomer, Galdy, handles the dog when I’m away. She sleeps with him and everything. He’s awesome. It occurred to me that he might take cats. He does. So, for only the fourth time in her life of four years, she was going to leave the condo. Even though she walks around on my deck and never down the wooden steps, she is not used to leaving the condo. I mean, she’s freaked like I’m sure any cat would be. I just had to get her to the car and she crawled under the passenger seat dash and was cool. I think she was meowing the whole time but I was jamming out to old Ted Nugent with my earbuds in. Wang Dang Sweet Poontang is a classic, readers!
When I got to Galdy I remember that he was, first, a groomer. I know this sounds silly, but I had forgotten because neither my cat nor dog had ever been groomed. It just isn’t necessary for them.
As I was paying I was reminded of an ex-cat that my wife and I had who looked like a big lion. He had all sorts of ailments and couldn’t clean himself well, so my ex would have her vet techs give him a lion cut every few months. It was hilarious.
Can you do a lion cut?
But, of course!
This is how goofy I am. I didn’t really order the lion cut to get back at my cat. I love her and I’ve grown to accept her occasional cat pee blunders. When she’s on her meds, she’s great. The truth is that I wanted to do the lion cut because I thought it would make for a hilarious story. And a decent blog post.
When I went to pick her up today she was running around the groomers and just looked ridiculous. I loved it. Now that she’s home she’s happy as a clam and I’m glad to have her back. The dog’s happy, too.
Sadly, this picture doesn’t do the ridiculousness justice. But, it’s a start.
