As if I hadn't already done enough shitty things in my life to others to ensure my ticket to the fiery unknown, I added one more heinous thing to the list. Yesterday, I forcibly evicted Olie's cat. I took off her collar, opened the door and "let" her run away into the wild blue yonder. I HATE that stinky cat! She somehow missed the memo about washing her own ass, so she smells like shit most of the time. And, she doesn't play well with others. She refuses to play with my other kitty. Instead, she gives him the stinky brown-eye and goes off to hide. Bitch. So, she had to go. Madhubby and I played it up, though. We walked around the neighborhood calling her name praying that she wouldn't come running (she didn't) then he delicately broke the news to our daughter. Why, oh, why did I send a dad to do a mom's job? Dads crumble as soon as the tears start. Olie was heartbroken and asked Madhubby to take her around the neighborhood to find stinky cat. Madhubby obliged because he thought Olie thought we let the cat run away. Um...yeah...we did. He couldn't have his little girl thinking he let her kitty run away. He feared she would be scarred for life and twenty years later it would all come out in therapy that her daddy let her cat loose on purpose. I figure she's going to be in therapy, anyway. Might as well enjoy our household with one less cat. But, no. He took her to look around the neighborhood and, lo and behold, when my daughter called out to her, she came a-running. You found her! That's just fucking great. Couldn't be happier.
Next time she "runs away" she won't be coming back. Olie's small voice isn't loud enough to breach the walls of the humane society. As for Madhubby, he of no willpower, he can step aside and let mama do the handling.
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