It started out like any other day.
I went to the bank and then did some yarn shopping at Kraemers.
Nothing fancy. Just a few balls of Mauch Chunky (pronounced “Maw Chunky”) in Eggplant and Portobello to try making a felted cat bed. They’ll be getting the 47″ circulars, in a few days.
And a little bit of Cherry Tree Hill supersock, in red, for Ene’s Scarf.
You could hardly call that major stash building, right?
A little stop at Starbucks for a latte.
Then I came home and fought with my computer for a while.
I’m the Secretary of my bowling league and, since we start in 2 weeks, I thought I’d get everything together to bring to the bowling alley. They need to have the names, etc. for their computer.
It should have been easy but, of course, it wasn’t.
While I was doing the customary “four letter frolic” with the program, Tom came back from golfing.
I went out to greet him and there, next to my car in the driveway, was our neighbor’s cat. (These people don’t let the cat into the house. It stays in their garage and they crack the door so it can prowl the neighborhood. They have 5 – maybe 6 – kids and this is their 2nd cat in about 4 years.)
I thought, how cute, it’s sleeping in the sun. Only it wasn’t sleeping. It was dead!
On. Our. Driveway.
Please realize that I am an “animal” person. I can’t watch a movie that has something bad happening to an animal. But I can watch action movies with lots of violence. “Die Hard” – Good. “Bambi” – BAD.
And I won’t let Tom use any type of bad chemicals on the lawn because I don’t want any bunny, bird, ground hog or stray animal getting hurt.
WARNING: DEAD CAT STORY TO FOLLOW. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
No idea what happened. No marks on it. SO…
Tom and I ran in circles for a while.
“What do we do?”
“Do we call someone?”
“Why did it pick our driveway?”
“Is this a sign that we shouldn’t even TRY to get another cat?”
Tom walked to the neighbor’s house but no one answered the door. He came back. We circled some more. Saw our (closer) neighbor and asked her what she would do. She, also, had no clue.
I called the local police – they didn’t know either.
Me: “I have a bizarre question.”
Police Operator: “I have a bizarre answer.” (oh, this is going to be a great help)
I explain the situation.
Police Operator: “How well do you know these neighbors? You say your husband hit the cat?”
Me: “NO!!! He just came home. Didn’t even pull all the way into the driveway and saw it laying there.”
PO: “Are you sure it’s dead?”
Me: “Yes. Not breathing would be a dead cat. I’m sure.” (and I just can’t help being a smart ass)
PO: “You could cover it with a blanket and wait for them to come home. Maybe take a picture of it laying in your driveway. Again, I don’t know how well you know these neighbors. Maybe put it in a box and leave it at their house, with a note.”
This brought visions of Judge Judy.
“Thanks”, I said.
PO: “This isn’t a police matter. I don’t know what to tell you.”
I already knew that but we thought we had to call someone. So much for that.
Now, here’s where it gets macabre (no, I don’t think it’s been weird, yet).
I have a sick sense of humor. I was upset that the poor thing was dead. I won’t even let Tom put out poison for the groundhogs. but humor is my defense mechanism. That and sarcasm.
We decided on the “get it away from our house” solution.
Picture Tom, with yellow rubber gloves on his hands. I’m thinking he looks strange and he says “I could only find 2 right hands”. I start giggling.
We get a box. Rigor has set in. He picks up the cat by the front and back legs. STIFF.
I get a visual and a voice-over starts in my head…”Now competing in the dead cat toss, Tom P.” (Tom tossing cat with a discus-type motion)
I know. It’s sick. I giggle some more. He is not amused.
In something that looks like the horse scene from “Animal House”, Tom carries the cat, feet straight up in the box, to the neighbor’s house. Leaves it laying next to their driveway. He says there was a dead mouse there so the cat looked like it had a snack and then died.
Tom goes into the shower to scrape all of the skin off of his hands – I guess he’s creeped out.
Neighbor comes home (the Father). Pulls past the cat, into his garage. Comes out and stares at the cat.
Tom’s still in the shower and I’m watching the neighbor, feeling like a bad episode of “Desperate Housewives”.
Neighbor moves it around with his feet. Goes into his garage. Comes back out and gets his mail. Back into the garage. Finally comes out with a garbage bag. Wraps up cat and takes it into his garage…and closes the door.
Lots of things are running thru my head.
They’re having it for dinner. He’s putting it in the freezer because the sanitation men came an hour ago and won’t be back for a week. He CAN’T keep it in the house for a week! I give them 2 weeks before we see another kitten running around their driveway.
There’s no smooth way to end this.
I can’t look out my back door at THEIR house. I can’t look out the side window at the ex-military, whack job neighbor’s house.
I told Tom I’m never going outside again.
I can do it. Just watch. But at least I had a better day than the cat.