Saturday, July 04, 2009

House Full of Kitty

For all the stories that I have written here, I hope I have never left you with the impression that I have any control over the happenings in my home.

Because that just isn't true.

This most recent event makes my point perfectly clear.

I only seem to live here, do the chores my wife tells me, and contribute all my earnings, savings and investments to satisfy the whims of the women who control my home and my life.

I'm not complaining, I am only explaining.

Since my two daughters were very little, I have made up songs and rhymes to entertain them. Bedtime songs, good-morning wake up songs, and songs to keep their attention when we need to be getting ready for school.

One day, the girls were not cooperating when we were doing the morning hair-brushing ritual. Our kitten Skye had just passed away, and the girls were missing her pretty bad.

So I made up a rap song:

I was standing in the bathroom, brushing girlies hair

When I thought I saw a fur ball in the corner over there

Spice Spice Kitty

Spice Spice Kitty


Of course it sounds better when the girls help me with those beat sounds that rappers spit into their microphones:

"phbbb phbbb-phbbb"

I was eating in the kitchen

The Ice creams pretty sweet

When I felt a furry buddy

Rubbing across my feet

Spice Spice kitty, "phbbb phbbb-phbbb"

Spice Spice kitty, "phbbb phbbb-phbbb"

We have a million of these versus because we just make up new ones when we need them. And the girls go into their six and eight year old version of disco-dancing as we literally spit out these tunes.

And the task at hand gets done, and our schedules stay on track.

Spice Spice kitty, "phbbb phbbb-phbbb"


It has been almost a year since our little family lost Skye the kitty.

A couple weeks ago, Dar was talking to one of our neighbors. It seemed that a stray cat – who used to be someone's house cat, delivered a litter of kittens under her back yard porch steps. Dar went over to investigate, and you can probably guess what happened next.

Last week, a tiny little kitten, eight weeks old, white with a solid grey stripe patch down her back and across her mask - like Batman's cowl – arrived in a travel kitty box – and was put into the downstairs bathroom to acclimate to our house.

When I came home, I discovered that our family had again expanded to six and they excitedly introduced me to the new little kitten. She was very friendly, and not very shy. And when we introduced her later to our black lab Suzy, her tail wagging so happy to see a little kitten again and eager to make friends. The kitten did not shy down from Suzy. Her first action was to punch Suzy in the nose with her furry little front right paw. Then she followed it up with a left cross. A nice combination actually.

So the dog and the kitten get along.

We held a contest to determine the kitten's name. Last time, when we held naming vote for Skye, I pulled for the name Buster. But again, I was beaten down by the women in my family. The only name that made sense for this little kitty was, of course, Misty.

"Misty? Why not Spice Spice Kitty?"

No, the way the grey lays over this kitten draping down on her body was like mist on a summer morning. I told Alannah, our eight year old who last year named Skye, that again she came up with a great name. The other name Ashley-Rae came up with was "Niblets" – which I also thought was good.

So now our little family had increased again from five to six.

Misty had the run of the house to herself. She played tag with Suzy, punching her in the nose and running away, Suzy clomping after her with tail wagging.

All the while, Darlene kept talking about the other kittens of the litter that had not yet been taken. And I took it just to be that, just conversation – and she suggested to her Dad that he take one.

After returning to work last week, I came home the Monday night, and Ashley-Rae and Alannah came to me to talk about how one of brothers was coming over to visit the next day. Apparently m lovely wife Darlene was scheming her way to get the second kitty into the house.

"Misty is so lonely ..", my lovely wife Darlene started.

"No she's not, she plays with Suzy", I retorted.

"It's not the same …", she continued. " … she needs a kitten to be best friends with."

"No", I said and went back to doing the Sudoku in the paper.

Shortly after, the girls came to me. They started telling me how scared they were for the little boy kitty.

"What if nobody takes him Daddy?" said Ashley-Rae – sincerely worried for a kitten she had never met.

"The kitty will be fine", I said in my best Daddy reassuring voice.

"But what if they take to Humin Siety?"

"Well … ", I had no answer.

They sat there with her saddest eyes. The expression on Alannah 's face reinforced her sister's position.

"You would have to call her Spice Spice kitty", I joked – trying to break the tension. But instead what I unwittingly did was agree to a second kitty.

The girls both turned and ran into the house to find Mommy. I still had not realized what I had done.

My lovely wife Darlene came out about twenty minutes later. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek as I was still absorbed in my Sudoko puzzle.

"I can't believe you agreed!", she said, looking at me with love in her eyes.

"Huh?"

"I just called Suzanne and told her you said it was ok …" she continued.

"You what …?"

"… so tomorrow morning she is bringing Spice over …."

Ah crap. That was my moment of realization. I have to stop making jokes.

So now Spice is downstairs in the bathroom, like Misty was two weeks ago. And son-of-a-gun, Spice is a girl kitty too.

So now I am the only male in a house of six females.

Ah crap.

And now our little family has expanded from six to seven.

But I don't think Misty is too happy about it all. I think she does not like Spice moving into her new territory. Every time I take Misty in to the downstairs bathroom to visit Spice, Misty goes up to Spice, and gives her the left-jab-right-cross combination. And Spice sits back on her haunches and hisses at Misty.

That's Spice's Sister. And Spice hasn't even met Suzy the black lab yet.

So here I sit on my back patio again. Suzy laying by my feet on the deck – unaware a second kitten is in the downstairs bathroom.

I have lost another battle. I have again demonstrated my lack of contol in my own home.

And now I have a house full of kitty.



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