Nov 28, 2006

the horror...the horror...

whilst reclining in my swiss cheese peeyamas, i read. i read books, i read magazines, i read blogs.

there's about 35-40 i read daily. most all have families (or work) and on weekends, i go through withdrawls when there's no new blog entries.

today - i was checking out Dooce's daily musings and today's entry involved the Family Dog - Chuck. he managed to escape his Human Oppressors and was missing for awhile before finally found.

and suddenly...i was eight years younger and dating Husband.

until we married, the Husband lived in San Diego county, first in La Mesa, then in Vista. we dated only on weekends, when i would take the train down on Friday nights.

the night we moved him in his new place, my brother in law heard a squalling coming from some bushes. there, suspended on the branches was a small, loud-mouthed black cat, about six weeks old. we checked around, and no one seemed to know the cat or where it belonged.


so now what? the brother in law couldn't take him. i certainly couldn't, my folks already had about four or so cats. the Husband protested that he certainly take the cat, after all he was allergic to cats. with all the sympathy i have, i told him he wasn't allergic and that he needed that cat.

we were at Ralphs @ 1:30 in the morning getting food, water & food bowls and a box. i drove back to the Husband's place, holding that small ball of fur in the palm of my hand, next to my heart, where he slept.

it was love at first sight. for both of us.

fast forward a year. on a Friday, the Husband headed off to work, then off to the train station to pick me up. we went out to dinner and made our plans for the weekend. we walked in to his apartment...

where's the cat?

we searched the place high & low. he was gone.

Brendan & i hunted around the area where the apartment was. we grabbed flashlights and searched in bushes, under cars, everywhere. we even drove over to a school behind the complex, where we ended up chasing a small black cat around for the better part of an hour.

i'm sure that cat is telling his great-grandkittens how one night two insane humans kept calling him Elvis and chasing him with lightsticks.

several hours later, we went home, convinced he was gone forever. never, in my life, have i cried myself to sleep. i did that night.

about midnight, the Husband decided to go out one more time & talk to the security guard to see if he had seen the Furball anywhere. he got over to the shack, when two glowing eyes caught the Husband's attention. he called out the cat's name.

a furry black comet zoomed past him, and up the stairs where he sat at the door, screaming the whole time "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?? DO YOU NOT REALIZE I HAVE BEEN OUTSIDE ALL DAY?! I HAD TO POOP IN THE WILD!!! THE WILD, DO YOU UNDERSTAND!

as best we can figure, when Brendan left for work that morning, Elvis sneaked out behind Brendan, deciding to spend a Big Day Out.

he just didn't realize how long that day would be.
and, of course, the Husband woke me up, with the cat, so i could cry some more.

this Furbaby is my baby. the only one i'm ever gonna have. he's smart. too smart. he knows the doorknob is his key to freedom..he stands up & paws at the doorknob and i know he's thinking "if i can get this dang thing open...FREEDOM IS MINE!"

apparently he's forgotten all about the horror of peeing outdoors.

i know he's just an animal. a pet. but i swear, the day he goes to the Great Cathouse in the Sky will kill me. like my dear April, Cyn and all my other friends who have them, they are our lives.

and even when he bites me on the ankle, when he snuggles with me...even when he's sitting on my lap, looking over my shoulder with a look on his furry face that convinces me that a knife-welding ax murder is behind me, waiting to do me in.

i wouldn't have him any other way.


Jolene George said...

Awww...I can see how much you love your furbaby. I love all of my kitties too. Sugar is my favorite one though. She is the sweetest.
Hey Valerie...can you email you address? :o)

Melissa said...

I used to have a furbaby - an orange cat named Columbo. We had to put him down because he got so sick, and it about killed me.

It also about killed me the day I realized that my husband is allergic to them (really, really allergic!) and that after we married, I could never have one again.

And I read the Dooce post too - with my breath held, hoping they'd find Chuck, and being overjoyed when they did!

Susie Q said...

This post just made such a wonderful start to my day! We had a similar experience with our first cat, Hannah. Lucy (our 2nd) has no interest in gettomg out it would seem. So far! : )

We love our dog Kip and cat Lucy with such a great and strong love.

They are our companions, our helpmates, our friends. They never pass judgement, they just love us. Even when we act foolish, have unruly hair, snore and burn dinner. They love us. : )

Stay enjoy your blog!