Super Soaker and The Stray

Over the Labor Day weekend, I had my husband dig through the black hole that is our shed, and escape with my super soaker water gun. I told him, "I Need It!". Why do I need my water gun at the END of the summer, you ask? To scare all the cats off our back deck, of course.

You see, it all started over a year ago, when a stray cat started coming around. I think that was in the spring last year. Maybe earlier? Anyway, the cat was pretty pathetic. It was really skinny and its hair was falling out. My cat loving husband remarked, "Jen, we really should feed it". The dog lover (me) remarked, "It's not ours, and if we start feeding it, it will be ours, and I don't want another cat!" (When I married Jim, I inherited a cat, "Newman", that drove me nuts. Remember annoying Newman on Seinfeld? That is how the cat got its name. Enough said? He died right before the stray started coming around). Anyway, the stray kept coming around, and Jim kept talking about feeding it, and I kept talking about NOT feeding it, until one day, I gave in. Or gave up, depending on how you look at it. Jen: "Fine! Feed it! But this is YOUR thing. I'm not involved, ok?" Jim: "Ok".

A year later we still have "the stray" - we still haven't named it because "then it will be ours"(Jim said!) The cat was in our garage for months during the winter when it got so cold even the dog lover realized we couldn't leave it outside. Jim was feeding it. I was busy with the baby and didn't ever go down there. Until, one night my husband took Dylan to his moms for the evening so I could get a break. I went down to feed the cat, and almost fell over. When Jim came home, I asked "Did it escape your attention that the cat is now pregnant?" Jim: "I thought it was just fat!" Men..You gotta love them.

About a week later, on our anniversary, our present was four new kittens. Goodie! Just what I always wanted. NOT! On the evening of our anniversary we were trying to keep one kitten alive by feeding it with a syringe. How romantic. Even though I am a dog lover, I hate to see an animal suffering so I felt that we had to do something. Since the cat lover had to work, guess who ended up driving the sick kitten to the vet? What a trip that was. My dad went along to help, so he had the kitten in a box, but it was trying to escape. Dylan was screaming in the backseat and the cat was meowing so we had a nice little duet going. Then I had to wait one hour looking at the poor suffering kitty while my dad tried to entertain Dylan outside in the grass (where the dogs do their business). Long story short, (yea, right), that kitten and another one didn't make it, so we were left with 2 and momma stray.

Guess who had to find homes for them? Wow, you're good at this guessing thing! So, they went to good homes, but no one would take "the stray", so she is still hanging out on our back deck (after being fixed of course!) Problem is, she has apparently put the word out to the whole neighborhood, because now we have a cat halfway house on the deck, with different cats coming and going constantly. Now, it is bad enough that we have to feed one cat "that isn't ours", but that is where I draw the line. She is so wimpy, apparently, that she is letting the other cats eat her food. I feed her, and go by the door two minutes later to find some other cat enjoying her "charity" (Jim said I have my charities I give to, and this is his). After all the time, energy, and cash that we have put into "the stray", the fact that she wasn't getting the food we were leaving for her, was making my blood boil, and that's never good.

So, now, I'm carrying my super soaker around like a guy in an old western. "Are you feelin' lucky?", I mutter as I patrol the deck. When one of the offending moochers approach I pretend not to notice them, until I can see out of the corner of my eye, that they are within range. Then I spin, and spray them with a steady stream of water. As they run wildly for cover, I think to myself, "Is there something wrong with me? Why is this so strangely cathartic?" So, this is my advice... If you are fighting with your husband, your inlaws are coming to town, your kids are riding your last nerve, your boss has reached new levels of jerkness, or whatever else is stressing you out, grab a Super Soaker and write me in the morning. That's one story I'd love to hear.