Scaredy Cats

I don't even have to wear lipstick and I'm still cuter than any pig trying to pick out their right shade.

Co-worker today saw a cat photo of mine. She stared at the pile of furballs in it. Asked if she liked cats. Oh no, she said, she's scared of them. I asked her why, since a cat is 1olb or so. She really couldn't answer. Said she'd always been scared. When folks tell me they're scared of cats, it's usually because they're 'sneaky.' Or cats 'look at them funny." Or a cat tried to bite them. When I asked what they were doing to the cat, it's usually there kids and pulled the cats tail. Well, heck, I'd bite you too.

Can give folks their props of being scared of cats, though. Once upon a time I had a problem with big dogs. When I was fourteen, the blind (key word:'blind') German Shepard of my best chum's grandma scared me. I'd just been standing there and my unknown scent probably set him off to take off after me. My chum laughed while I really wanted to run all the way home. The problem was we were about 10 miles from home. However, I can love on big and small dogs now. Cats--well, have my heart.

Why else would I read cat food labels to make sure corn gluten meal is not anywhere in the first three ingredients and buy cat litter that makes us all happy?

Eventho one just jumped on my mantle and knocked over a plant. This plant was housed in one of my favorite containers. Looked like a gigantic coffee cup. Could probably hold a couple gallons of liquid, until its crash to pieces on the floor. The best would be a thimble full now.

The guilty culprit? The one posted above.

Does he look sneaky to you? :)

A Big Deal...

Just carried in the bag of kitty litter from my car. Planned to washout all the poo boxes and pour fresh litter in them---tomorrow. Well, I decided we needed a little refreshing in the meantime. Cat lovers—you’ll know what I mean. So I go get the bag of litter. Big deal right?

Consider it’s 11:15 pm and the bag was 50lbs. PetCo had great deal—50lb bag for $6.99—if you had your PALS card. I did. Back to why it’s a big deal. In late 2005, I was ill with endocarditis—didn’t know it, more less ever heard of it, Movie Man let me use his Sam’s card to buy 40lbs of kitty litter (yes, even then).

When we got back to my place, he carried the litter up my steps and set it in my apartment. Sometime later, after Movie Man left, I decided to move the bag to another part of the apartment. When I tried to lift it, my heart pounded against my chest as it never had before. I immediately dropped the bag, and couldn’t seem to catch my breath. The thump was so loud; I just knew my downstairs neighbor could hear it. Had some discomfort, yet not really pain. I was scared my heart would burst from my chest ala the Sigourney Weaver classic, “Aliens” (the 2nd one, because it still makes me jump). Sat on my couch, then went to my bed—and just lied there. I wasn’t sure what to do. I’m sure it was only minutes, yet it seemed like hours before my heart calmed down. I remember asking out loud, “What was that?” To look back, I wonder what my blood pressure was at that moment. My breath eventually evened out and my heart eased its bang a gong through my chest.

So what did I do? Did I call a friend or even 911? Of course, not. I went to Wal-mart.

The big deal tonight was being cautious as I carried the 50 lbs of litter, with both hands, into my house. No pounds in my chest. No shortness of breath. Every time I carry large bags like that, I get a little antsy. I still recall being ordered to not carry anything heavier than a milk carton—and here I was cradling 50 lbs of litter.

Now the refreshing is done. I have cats to pet, a couple spoonfuls of ice cream to savor while I read a few pages of an entertaining book by Lydia Adamson, where the cats help their human solve a mystery—yea, yea…I love cats…all this before I thank God for this day He made and for the one I pray He blesses me with tomorrow.