Learn From Me....follow up.

Remember when I said that you should own a pet? 

Maybe I was wrong.

This week I have learned that Sage must fully consume her dinner at a reasonable time in the evening.  Say 2:15 pm.

Why do I care when she eats?  Because when she eats she poops.  And if she eats late, then she poops early.  Say 4:52 am.

Which is what time she woke me up this morning.  I stumbled out of bed, wearing nothing but my *white jammies* (if you know what I'm saying) and let her out the back door.

When I opened up the back door Sassy the mother cat, and her mostly grown kitten from the dark side Stix, both ran out the back door.

I was so startled, I just stood there with the door open while they made their big break.  Granted, my contacts were out so mostly I squinted at the blurred shapes that cats make as they run into the night.  I didn't yell, or try to close the door.  I just stood there.

After they had all three run out of sight, panic set in.  The kind of panic that only a person who has just gotten rid of a litter of kittens can feel. 

I ran.

Out the door into the backyard.  Sage was wondering across the street and Sassy was half way up the tree.  I grabbed Sassy and threw her in the house, where she stood up with her paws on the screen door and meowed avoidance techniques to her spawn. 

I looked all over for that damn baby.  He was nowhere I could see.  Well, he is the color of the blackest night (which it was) and I am blind as a bat.  You do the math.  Finally I turned on the back porch light to maybe help with the search.  I was on my hands and knees, peering blindly under the grill, whispering "here Stixies, Stixies" when I noticed another light flick on.  I looked over my shoulder, and barely clad bum.  It was my neighbor, an older gentleman I call Brother Ennis coming out of his side door to get in his truck.  Later Greg would wonder where he was going at 5 am, but honestly, that never crossed my mind.  As he stepped out he looked up at me and stopped dead in his tracks.

THERE I am, fully visible (in fact, spotlighted by my back porch light) on my hands and knees wearing nothing but my *white jammies* peering blindly under my BBQ grill.

What do you do in a situation like that?!

I said (heaven help me): "Good Morning Brother Ennis."

He nodded, climbed in his car and left.

No longer was I whispering pet names to that cat.  Humiliation-caused tears are now rolling down my cheeks and I spit out vulgar threats to him.

I may have said very naughty words.

It may have included step by step visuals of how I was going to torture, maim, and then finally send him to the depths of hell.

He didn't come out.

It was at this moment I heard a rumble.  I pounced to my feet.  (Well....I guess that "pounce" is a relative term for this practically naked Big Mama.)

Coming down our little street with flashing light is....

You guessed it, the garbage truck.

And WHO do you wonder is standing dumbly in the middle of the road?

Yes...my dog.

She just stands there.

The garbage truck stops and waits for her to move.  Which she doesn't.

I am cowering behind the edge of the brick garage, hopefully out of sight. Every inch of my body pressed firmly against the wall.  Nothing between me and the coldness of those frozen bricks but a thin layer of Dri-Silk.  By now the black cat has come out, and is rubbing against my legs.

I peep my head around the edge and yell:

"SAGE!"

She and the men in the truck look over.

Damn that black cat!  And the back porch light I turned on!

I peep my head out and yell in my meanest voice:

"SAGE!  COME HERE!" 

The garbage men creep the truck up a few feet to get a better view of me.

Sage limps home and I make a running break for the back door.

I notice the truck doesn't move until I am all the way inside and turn the light off.  If I could have seen that far, I would know for sure if they were laughing at me or not.

One inside, I (by the grace of heaven) refrain from beating every animal who resides in this house.

Still crying, I walk with mostly frozen feet back to bed, where I find my loving husband.

Greg rolls over and says:

"What are you doing up?  *yawn and fart* Can you get me a glass of milk?"

I can't type the words that came out of my mouth.

Seething words of hatred.

You know, in the light of day I have had an opportunity to reconsider the events of last night.  I have had the chance to evaluate the words that escaped my mouth in those dark pre-dawn moments of embarrassment and anger.  And I have come to a conclusion.

If this event is the one that tips me over to an eternity in Outer Darkness... I'm taking that cat with me.