Swistle, you might want to skip this one.
A cat showed up a few days ago. It liked hanging out in the rock garden and sitting on the steps that go to the creek. By the grace of dog, Lucy didn't seem to notice it. It seemed to come around during twilight.
The other night, it was in the rock garden while I was standing at the sink. I was the only thing between the window and Lucy losing her sh*t. So I silently tried to shoo it away. It spotted me and took off, which made me wonder if it was feral. I didn't mind the thought of a feral cat hanging around, just that Lucy would never relax ever again.
The next morning Kevin phoned about thirty seconds after he left. "Prepare yourself when you leave because that cat is "sleeping" next to the road." Ah man, that sucks. Poor kitty. And poor Kevin. What a way to start his day.
I left about two hours later and poor thing was still there. I guess I just assumed that someone would take care of it. But Kevin leaves at 5:30 am so it's not like there is a ton of movement from us at that hour. Then I thought well, certainly my father in law or one of the two other neighbor men would take care of it during the day.
I was wrong.
When I arrived home about 4:00, poor cat was still there. Strangely, none of the wildlife had claimed it. And that made me wonder if it had gotten sick.
Our neighbor Lisa was coming down the road and spotted me. "Do you know whose cat that is? Isn't it sad?" I phoned our other neighbor and it wasn't his. So we're back to it's a stray/feral cat.
Lisa wondered what we should do. I offered to bury it but was worried about Lucy or the other dogs digging it up again. "Well, we can bury it down here....Or we can wait until my husband comes home"
That was a no for me. Kevin is a guy's guy. He does manly, dangerous work and has manly, dangerous hobbies. But hurt animals is his kryptonite. There was no way I was going to leave it for him to see again or to do when he got home. Her husband Alex is just as good of a guy and my inner feminist was all "Oh we are not leaving this for the boys to do."
I walked back up to our shop (it's an 1/8 of a mile between the mailbox and our house and I still have an inhaler. I make good choices) I got a big paper bag and latex gloves then walked back down. Lisa saw the gloves and asked "You're not going to TOUCH IT?!?" I laughed and wondered aloud how else we could do this? "I don't know but I don't want to touch it." I waved my gloved hands to her, "You aren't going to" and laughed.
I bent over sweet cat and talked to it, shooed flies away and began to pick it up. Two things happened: I balked. "If you come alive, I swear to god I will kill you again" I said to it then I made myself laugh. Yes, I am the person who can laugh in the most inappropriate places.
DISCLAIMER: dark hearted, effed up childhood, strange coping skills. I told Lisa it was okay and repeated what I just wrote.
In my head the plan was that I was going to tuck the cat into the bag. That was not the case. Nature, shall we call it, had taken over. There was no gently tucking the cat into the bag. So let's just say that I was thankful that I had a big bag. (Olive Garden to-go bags are great, by the way. And: insert inappropriate joke here)
This also made me laugh. AGAIN: I am NOT a normal person. "Okay, kitty, I need you to help me out a little here." I said, like that was going to work.
I did get it into the bag and the bag sealed. Lisa took it from there because I did the hard part. You have to love our neighbors.
Lisa wondered if we should post on the neighborhood watch facebook page that we found the cat. I wasn't sure what the right answer was. It did not have a collar and we weren't sure if it was feral or dropped off. I told her that if it were Kevin, he would tell himself that someone saw the cat and loved it more than we did. Lisa thought that was a sweet sentiment and said "I like that. I will think about it and decide later."
No, I didn't have nightmares or regret. I told myself that if I can watch Bones on a constant loop, I can deal with this. At least now poor kitty has a proper resting place.
I told you. this is a terrible story.
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