Wearin' My Heart on My Sleeve

Remember…as far as anyone knows…we are a “normal” family…….

As I said…I am a certifiable rescuer. Just think of me as a “senior” member of the Rescue Rangers! And…I am fairly certain that given a burgundy cape….my favorite color…. and a sparkly, eye-catching tiara, I could save the world. God knows no one else is doing their part!



Okay, well a few others are doing their small part. Before Tam had to move home a couple of years ago, she rescued a cat that adopted her. “Meow-Meow” is a long-haired tortoise shell female with an attitude of infinite superiority, who was part of the package.

Lucky me. As if we didn’t have enough rescued cats already.

“Meow-Meow” made the 4th cat in our household….one too many according to the other three, who were kinda settled and relatively happy with one another. The three of them, Oreo; Abbie’s cat that Papa adopted for her before he passed away, and the baby boy “kittens” Grayson and Thorne…now 4 years old…that I rescued from the prison for Abbie as comfort just after her beloved Papa died; were doin‘ just fine before SHE was thrown in the mix.

Oh boy.

It was about then we started havin’ the pissin’ contests. ALL OVER THE HOUSE! On my walls. The new carpet, the new granite counter tops in the kitchen, and my new recliner chair that sat in front of the television in my newly remodeled family room.



It was about then that I really, really, REALLY began to dislike cats. I have vowed to NEVER own another one.




We tried drugs…..for the cats, not me damn it. We tried the special pheromone calming spray, and special cleaners, and black lights to find the areas when our noses alone wouldn’t lead us to the offending odors.

My reaction to their stress probably added more stress upon the cats and my family. I was going justifiably crazy.

Or crazier………

Whatever.

Anyway…it added to my continued downward spiral of my life being desperately out of control. I began to hate my cats, my family members and my house. I threatened to banish the cats to the outside forever, or God forbid…send them to the Humane Society to look for alternative one cat homes…much to the indignant protests of my daughters.

I gave up. I threw my hands up in surrender……..and then I had the brilliant idea of making the girls responsible for the cats. Their cats…their responsibility. I began to consider myself a genius.

The cats, when not outside were to stay in Tammy and Abbie’s room, creating the appropriate distance between the offenders.

And, it’s sorta worked. If anything, it’s relieved some of my stress and Tammy has become the crazed, neighborhood cat woman, with constant cat hair on her clothes, bed and bedroom furnishings. She’s very attached to the cats now and says she can’t live without their love and affection.

Works for me.

So, the point of all of this is to tell a little humorous story from last night…………

Tam and her friend Kim were busily putting on their make-up in the upstairs bathroom as they got ready for a big night out on the town, when Tam hollered downstairs to me and we had this exchange.

Tam: “Mom, do we have any Benedryl?”

Me: “Probably. I dunno. Why?”

Tam: “Uhhhh, Kim is really allergic to cats and she’s spending the night here with me----in my room----after we go out!”

Me: ***not raising an eyebrow*** “Well…I can guarantee she’ll be dead by morning!”

Right now I am thinking someone got lucky-maybe me- because it’s about 10:00 am and Tam and…… Kim….alive and breathing…..just walked in the front door saying they‘re heading to Denny‘s for breakfast after an exciting night of fun. They look like hell.

But….

It’s apparent she didn’t sleep in Tam’s room.

Thank God.

I would hate to have to deal with the coroner this early on a beautiful Saturday morning!