An Open Letter to My Cat
Dear Kitty,
Who's a pretty kitty? You are, you are. Yes, good girl. Oh, look at you all curled up on the table. Aren't you a pretty girl. (rubs Cat under chin until she purrs)
When Phoebe died everyone in the neighborhood was very sad. Phoebe was fierce. She single pawedly kept the vermin population at zero. When we got you we hoped you would step into that role and become an enforcer. When you started to hunt worms we thought it was a good sign. Sure, it was disgustingly gross that you'd bring the worms into the house to show us your prowess but hey, you were a young kitty. You were learning and everybody's got to start somewhere. Then The Neighbor told me that she watched you stalking and toying with a rat one day. 'Whoo hoo!' I thought. 'She's going for the big game now'.
But Kitty, you have to work on your follow through. It's not enough to catch things. If you're going to do that you have to dispatch them. With vengence. It was not cool on Tuesday, for example, when you brought a live bird into The Child's room. You woke up The Child, you freaked us both out and, frankly, that bird never did anything to you. When the poor thing looked like it had finally succumb to fright, it really freaked me out to have to pick it up (in a towel) and take it outside. And yeah, I felt like Ghandi when it snapped out of it and took wing, flying as high and far as its little wings would take it. But really. That's not how I like to start my day. I hadn't even had my coffee yet, for cryin' out loud.
And this morning? I can tell you authoritatively that Daddy was none to pleased to find a live rat in the bathtub. It's also a little disconcerting, for my own part, to wake up to the sounds of "Kill it! Kill it!".
What were you thinking? What in the world made you carry a live rat into the house, put it in the bathtub and then just sit there over it like some sort of Egyptian statue? What? Were you going to waterboard it first? American's don't torture, kitty. It's a new era. Forget any Cheneyesque notions you may have picked up. If you're going to be swift enough to catch a rat in the first place (and snaps to you for that) could you please please please take it to the next level, snap it's damn neck and leave it outside for the crows? Please?
You're a good kitty. Yes, you are. But if you're going to hunt there have GOT to be some ground rules.
Love,
Mommy
Who's a pretty kitty? You are, you are. Yes, good girl. Oh, look at you all curled up on the table. Aren't you a pretty girl. (rubs Cat under chin until she purrs)
When Phoebe died everyone in the neighborhood was very sad. Phoebe was fierce. She single pawedly kept the vermin population at zero. When we got you we hoped you would step into that role and become an enforcer. When you started to hunt worms we thought it was a good sign. Sure, it was disgustingly gross that you'd bring the worms into the house to show us your prowess but hey, you were a young kitty. You were learning and everybody's got to start somewhere. Then The Neighbor told me that she watched you stalking and toying with a rat one day. 'Whoo hoo!' I thought. 'She's going for the big game now'.
But Kitty, you have to work on your follow through. It's not enough to catch things. If you're going to do that you have to dispatch them. With vengence. It was not cool on Tuesday, for example, when you brought a live bird into The Child's room. You woke up The Child, you freaked us both out and, frankly, that bird never did anything to you. When the poor thing looked like it had finally succumb to fright, it really freaked me out to have to pick it up (in a towel) and take it outside. And yeah, I felt like Ghandi when it snapped out of it and took wing, flying as high and far as its little wings would take it. But really. That's not how I like to start my day. I hadn't even had my coffee yet, for cryin' out loud.
And this morning? I can tell you authoritatively that Daddy was none to pleased to find a live rat in the bathtub. It's also a little disconcerting, for my own part, to wake up to the sounds of "Kill it! Kill it!".
What were you thinking? What in the world made you carry a live rat into the house, put it in the bathtub and then just sit there over it like some sort of Egyptian statue? What? Were you going to waterboard it first? American's don't torture, kitty. It's a new era. Forget any Cheneyesque notions you may have picked up. If you're going to be swift enough to catch a rat in the first place (and snaps to you for that) could you please please please take it to the next level, snap it's damn neck and leave it outside for the crows? Please?
You're a good kitty. Yes, you are. But if you're going to hunt there have GOT to be some ground rules.
Love,
Mommy
cobbled together by Moi at 7:16 AM
14 Comments:
Look Cat.
Ya gotta finish the job or Vito here, will finish you.
Arrrrgh! A rat in the bathtub?!
Ha Ha..My neighbors cat brought me a bird the other day, tried to trade me for the salmon I was preparing.
You'll never be a made Kitty at this rate.
LOL! That gave me a good laugh for the day. Your misfortune makes for great humor.
In the wild,the Mommy demonstrates the coup-de-gras for the youngsters,so that they get a clear picture of what's expected of them.
It's nature's way.
..lemme know how that works out for you.
hahahahaha....classic. Sounds like something my cat would do if she got up off the couch once in awhile.
This little issue will need to be resolved before my next visit.
Hilarious!! :)
But hey, I thought she was just going to be an "inside kitty," now??
So, I take it she is off restriction. Who was being asked to "kill it"......you are the cat? She will learn. My former feral babies play with frogies, moths, bugs, the occasional bird that slips into their playpen and mice.....I have to show them by beating the crap/life out of the mice.....all of the other creatures are re-located.
Ba Ha Ha Ha
Lucky kitty wasn't watching over it in the kitchen.
So, where's my book.
Thanks for the laugh.
Peace
:+}
Anne, oh, hell yes.
Minogue, exactly.
Ooh, Sage, salmon? Mommy just got distracted.
Al, right?
BA, happy to serve.
Sling, seriously? I just did my nails...
Edder, a) thanks for coming around and 2) right now I'll trade ya.
JP, duly noted.
MHP & Rosie, yeah, about that...the restriction thing lasted about 3 days. But she's a cat. Cats know how to get outside. Now, the good news is, having been on restriction (unlike some teens I know) she seems to have gotten the message. She goes out but she comes back in. Which is key. Plus, no rude neighbors have called Animal Control for weeks. So maybe she's figured out that she'd better freaking come home every day.
Still doesn't solve the 'dispatching vermin' issue.
You're welcome, Aonyba. And you'll get your book when The Child graduates and I retire.
Tell her that if she doesn't get with the program, she's going to be given to the Cat Circus in Chicago.
I'll make inquiries on Saturday while I'm there.
Hahaha! Wonderful! From a distance - a long, long distance - A. got that kitty-sympathetic look and said: Kitty's trying, though.
I'm almost certain he'd feel differently if our kitty pulled that up-close. He can't even stand a little kitty vomiting. He calls it projectile when it's just normal.
Anyway, yet another piece that could be reproduced in pamphlet form and distributed far and wide.
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