Last Thursday I had a bad day. Stressed, scattered, you name it. The recipient of my bad day vibes turned out to be my poor kitty. (Should I be comforted that it wasn’t my kids?!?)
It was 3pm and a nice afternoon. Sydney was convinced she wanted to go in her wading pool. I was convinced that the water coming out of the hose would freeze her little keister off. She didn’t care.
So, the sucker that I am, I took her outside and filled up her pool with about an inch of water. Meanwhile, our 13-year-old, 16 lb cat, Mr. Tabbers (aka Doodee–don’t ask) was meowing at us through the screen door. He wanted to go outside. He is an indoor cat, but he could smell some wonderful things outside on that warm fall day!
Sydney and I let him out, vowing to return him to the house in 1 minute. And then Sydney decided it was too cold to go swimming and I tried cleaning up the pool and she was off doing something else.
Fast forward to 6:30 pm. Will, Sydney and I had just gotten home from the library.
There’s a knock on the door and my neighbor is standing in my carport.
“Just so you know, I found your cat in my backyard.”
Huh.
“I thought it was your cat, but I wasn’t sure so I got the neighbor kids who feed him while you’re on vacation. They said it was Mr. Tabbers.”
Huh.
“So we cornered him in a box and then we got [my other neighbor] to let us into your house since you weren’t home so we could put Mr. Tabbers back.”
Huh.
“I just wanted you to know. In case you had a rip in your screen door or an open window or something.”
Huh.
“Actually,” I confessed, “it’s all me.”
“I’m an idiot,” I continued.
“Forgot all about him…” I mumbled, “but thank you, thank you for bringing him back!”
Poor Mr. Tabbers. I’m glad he survived his indoor-kitty-3 1/2 hour-stint-in-the-real-outdoor-world. Geesh. And, yes, those of you who know me well know that I seriously considered NOT confessing that I was an idiot and playing it like there was a hole in my screen or something. But no. I came clean. And now three different neighbors – the one who found my cat, the ones who feed my cat, and the neighbor with the house key – know that I’m a bad kitty mama!
I love it!