This is Nuts

Sunday, 30 September 2012
Some tasks are easier than others. I'm sure this is true in your life as well. For instance, unloading the dishwasher, on a scale of 1-10 is probably a 3. No big deal. Caring for two cats, however, presents some challenges from time to time. Take earlier this week...

Lily and Violet are outside while I clean the kitchen and I keep an eye on them through the kitchen window. I'm sipping a cup of coffee and making mental notes on what I need to get done when I look out on the deck. I can only see Lily's back end and her tail is swishing wildly from side to side. I walk to the mud room and open the back door. Since I don't see Lily, I crouch to call her. "Lilllyyyyy!" Horrible move.

She races up the deck stairs (out of view) and turns the corner...to run right toward me. I scream. She has a SQUIRREL in her mouth. I stand up and shut the door in a quick, silent, ninja-like move. Lily screeches to a halt on the welcome mat and looks at me through the class like I'm crazy. Can I not see her brilliant work? Do her incredible hunting skills mean nothing to me?


Clearly employing a psychological splitting technique (I know these things now), I think of anything other than the dead squirrel and walk into my living room. Before sitting down, I spin on my heel,  go back to the kitchen and wash my hands in scalding hot water and soap for five minutes even though I didn't touch Lily's gift. What to do?

I take a deep breath and decide I can do this! I will be brave! I will call my father at work, interrupt his day and fake cry until he pumps me up enough to ask the neighbor to take care of the prey. Dad is as usual, incredibly calm and gracious. He listens patiently, makes a compassionate noise and suggests that I lay a used rag over the animal and gently use a stick or tool to push it onto a shovel so I don't have to look at it or touch it. I breathe, thank him and hang up.

Looking at the clock, I give up on the project for now and get ready for class. Why do today what can be put off 'til tomorrow? The cats run around to the front door when I call them and come inside.

Later that evening, while it is still light outside, I conjure the brave spirits of all successful women who have come before me and open the back door. To my surprise, the little creature is gone. I sigh and go back to homework.

The next morning I let the cats out while I pour a cup of coffee. I can see Violet crouched beside my lounge chairs on the deck. She is sniffing something and not moving. I venture to the back door and see  a couple of lazy flies near the chairs. Oh NO. After quickly putting on clothes that will ensure my neighbors aren't horrified when they see me outdoors, I move with a purpose.

With gloves and old rags, I step onto the deck and from a distant corner of the deck, bend down to look under the chairs. I see a fuzzy grey tail. In my mind I scream, "O-M-G, O-M-G" (not the words, just "O-M-G") and stride to the disposal site. I throw rags over the carcass and yank it out. I didn't cover it well enough, however, because I immediately notice that its head is no longer there. This throws me into such a shock that I look at the sky as in a trance and start marching the item to the back lot. I'm almost humming Justin Bieber's song "Boyfriend" (things are clearly bad) while I fling the poor thing into the woods.

When I get back to the house I wash my hands three times and then shower. Funny that I think I might be able to deal with having children. I can barely handle small gifts from a cat. 

1 comment

LizP said...

Kids are way easier than "gifts" from the cat. Kids are just poop, food everywhere and drool :-)