James is officially an outdoor cat! No leash, no escaping, no running away to live with another family for six months - just pure, unadulterated, outdoor cat-y stuff. He loves it, and I love it. Need to go get the mail? James will follow you. Need to run outside to the car to check and see if that's the thing that's been running for almost seven hours in front of your garage? James will trot along beside you. Missing a little kitty love? Just stand at the door and call "Hi honeys. Where's my little kitten power?" and watch James run from a nearby tree into your open arms.
Seriously, it's like I had this grumpy, moody cat who like to shred furniture and human arms, and then all of a sudden I have a cat made of fairy sparkles and tickles.
Outdoor cat = way better than indoor cat. I don't care that his lifespan has been cut in half, and it's much more likely now for him to be carried away by something with talons than it was before, he's happy. And that's worth more than his life.
(You know what I mean.)
When James became an outdoor cat, flowers just started blooming spontaneously.
The bad news:
James is officially an outdoor cat.
My feelings on this can only be expressed via visual aids.
Feeling 1:
Nooooooooooooooo.
Feeling 2:
Noooooooooooooooo. GAH!!!! Why are you scooting CLOSER to it????
Of course no one was home to help me rid the house of the prize James brought in (and then shook a little for good measure sending feathers flying all the which way, coating the house like I just had a slumber party from an 80's movie), so I had two decisions: 1. Leave it there until someone more appropriate could take care of it. Or 2. Gear up like I was going in for a HVAC procedure and try to get the thing from the ground to the outside trash without causing any more damage to my psyche.
Yes, I'm a wimp when it comes to animals. Dead humans? I'll hold the hands of those suckers until the cows come home, but dead animals? No. I'm fairly certain they're just faking it/have become evil in their death and by the power of some sort of Freddy Krueger-poisonous spider they will come back to life and start moving around, and I will NOT KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH THAT SHIT.
So, the clean-up process took about a half an hour and went like this:
Ok, ok, it's ok. . . just don't look, just don't AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IS IT IN THE BAG?????? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH JAMES HELP ME GET IT IN THE BAG!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! OK, OK, It's ok. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. It's dead. It's not gonna do anything, it's just lying there like AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH I THINK IT JUST MOVED! FUUUUUUUUUUDGE (apparently I don't curse when scared because I said 'fudge' like seven different times) Ok, Ok, Please don't come back to life, please don't come back to life, please don't AAAHHHHHHHHHH JAMES DON'T EAT HIM! OH GOD PLEASE DON'T EAT HIM WHILE I'M TRYING TO GET HIM OUT OF HERE! Ok, Just for the love of fudge please if you do come back to life, just let it be for a little bit so you can roll yourself into this bag so I don't actually have to feel your dead little body because then I'm gonna start crying on top of all this and I don't JAMES STOP TRYING TO EAT HIM!!!!!
Yeah.
Anyway, after all that I'm still thrilled with James being an outdoor cat. I'll put up with the trauma because of his happiness.
I just hope he remembers me in his will.
1 comment:
Does this mean you'll finally let him brave the elements without his raincoat?
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