Hi! <Waves>

Funny and honest tales from a made-to-work Dad of three, wobbling, graying, and laughing his way through parenthood. Armed to the teeth with Nerf guns, full of pie, fighting a chocolate addiction, but genuinely honoured to be at least half of Team Parents (yay!).

25 October 2015

Stupid Cat

I feel bad for the stupid cat. 
Poor not-as-loved-as-he-used-to-be stupid cat.

When we first got him, we had no children, and I had all the time in the world to play with him. I even made him a cardboard castle for him (and me) to play in. We were that close.

(He tended to hog the castle though...)

When Boy8 arrived the cat was sidelined a fair bit whilst Team Parents (yay!) got to grips with no sleep and someone crying all night. But there were times when I had a moment and he got a play and a good stroking.

However by Miss4 most of my 'free' time had gone and the cat rarely got love. Normally only with his breakfast. And that would only be a quick pat on the head.

By BabyBoy1? I find sometimes he is utterly forgotten (the cat, not BabyBoy1, he's awesome).

'Did you feed the cat?'
What cat?
'This one, this annoying one'
Sorry... Don't recognise him
'He knows the password'
Does he? Oh right, must be ours...
And no I didn't

He has also become incredibly annoying.
Oh all right he hasn't. It's not as though he's changed and become the most nagging needy cat in the world. He has. But on the other hand licking someone's bare leg at 6:30 am doesn't make you any friends either. It gives me the heebie-jeebies. Constantly trying to trip me whilst I am trying to shout at hug Boy8 doesn't endear me to him either.

Really it's us. We changed. Big style.
We now have three other tiny people screaming and shouting for our attention. So when the cat tries to join in, he gets the short end of our patience. Humans first I am afraid. Sorry non-human cat.

The bloody idiot has hurt both front paws falling out of a tree, a shed, at cat-fight club, or something equally avoidable. So he's limping about in the most heart wrenching sickening manner at the moment, he's really milking it.

(Proof the cat is an idiot… Look at all that sofa space... I mean look…!!!)

He is also housebound. But this has highlighted a few things to us:

1. The gate stopping BabyBoy1 from entering the dangerous tiddly (utility) room is useless.

How do I now know this? Well as the cat is not meant to be jumping about, we decided to leave the gate open so he didn't have to jump it. And then we would just guard BabyBoy1 a lot more.

Yesterday I watched BabyBoy1 walk up to the gate and then shut it, and then fall over (as he does). Once he was back up, he re-opened the gate, went into the tiddly room, nicely shutting the gate behind him. Then caused havoc.

You won't believe what I've just seen BabyBoy1 do?
<Explains about now useless gate>
'Oh right... One thing though...'
'Where is BabyBoy1 now?'
<Both dive for the tiddly room>
<I struggle to open the gate the child proof gate>
Why can't I open it???
<Sounds of tiny boy pressing every button on every machine he can>

2. The cat gets really grumpy when he's stuck inside all day

He bit me, Mrs. Amazing, Boy8 and even tried to bite Miss4.
He doesn't normally bite the others. Just me, because of our special castle bond, I'm always the one to throw him out each evening.
But to the cats eternal credit, he is still maintaining his brilliant and much appreciated tolerance of BabyBoy1 smacking him in the face, pulling his tail, scaring the life out of him, and generally grabbing handfuls of hair off his body.

So officially, and for the entire world to know: Thank you cat for be able to sense that tiny humans have no idea what they are doing and for not attacking them. Thank you, for not.

3. That wasn't a small bit of chocolate on the floor I tried to hoover up and got all over the hoover

MUST clean more when the cat's housebound!!! Ewww!!!
Ewwww. Just ewww...

So the cat need to go to the vets. 
The logistics of taking the cat to the vets are pretty simple, but are fraught with terrible danger and consequences and disaster! And I'm not over selling it too much.

I have a fifteen minute window in which to drop the cat at the vets and then be back with the car. So Mrs. Amazing can take Boy8 to school and I take can Miss4 to school, and then get to work.
If I am late back EVERYONE will be late. Which as I am sure you can see, would be apocalyptically bad.

So with Sir. Limpalot in his cage carrier I arrive at the vets.
He needs an X-ray on his paws and sedation and X-ray are necessary. The vet give me strict instructions that he was not allowed to eat anything after 8pm the night before. She may have thought he was a gremlin.

I had hoped dropping the cat would be a drive by situation, and I'd be able to luzz the cat through the car window at them. I was wrong. Instead it took ages. And I was on the clock.

The lovely vet lady took the strange decision of reading all the forms out loud to me. Maybe she doesn't know I can read. Should I say?

I can read you know
Well done <Pats me on head>
Have a sticker

All of the talking and stuff was taking too long. I had to get back with the car sharpish. I seriously considered stopping her...

Look I'm in a huge rush
Just take the cat and do what you need to do
You have my trust
Just fix him, please, I've children to get to school.

But you know, I didn't want to come across as the most un-caring pet owner in the world.
The Vet had one more question.

'And he's been starved since last night?'

When I got down stairs this morning I found on the kitchen floor a pastry crust, still in it's arc, where it had fallen. Utterly stripped bare of the lovely quiche Mrs. Amazing had made for my tea. And a happy and slightly plump cat. The very secure tea towel I had left guarding the quiche had let me down. The swine.

<The Vet is still waiting>
'Because if he hasn't he might explode in a ball of flames when we sedate him'
<Awkward situation growing>

If I own up now, this whole journey to the vets and tension filled race against time maybe for naught. I don't want to come back to the vets again, it’s a pain. What to do? What to do?

'And if he has eaten anything, then he will most definitely die and the resulting explosion will probably take half the town with him'
What? But the pub is next door!
<Past awkward now, into maybe 'I'm very special'>

Then the cat meows.
He doesn't often. Only when he's in pain, starving (apparently) or unhappy.
The cat has actually been with me and Mrs. Amazing longer than any of the children.

I look into his cage and see him for what he is, not another job I have to do, but a tiny little cat that really doesn't know what the smeg is going on.
He’s a bit little BabyBoy1 when he’s upset.

(‘Go on, I dare you, say no to me...’)

And relating the BabyBoy1 to the car does it for me. 
I realise I'm being a heartless smegger, and that I was so focused on getting the kids to school and me to work, and the other billion things on my mind. That I'd forgotten that this big old orange fluff ball, sat in his ridiculously small cage carrier, is also part of the family.

I own up to the vet.

He ate a whole quiche during the night.

Yes oh. I explain, she laughs, we talk more. Time keeps on ticking by.
But I have stopped worrying. I have to give the cat his slice of my time, because, because… Well I just have to. I've accepted that I am never going to get back in time, and everyone will be late because I ‘chatted’ too much.
But at least I am not a git.


Did I make it back in time to get everyone where they needed to go?
Yes I did <Pats self on back>

Did I drive too fast to achieve that?
Not telling <Whistles>

Did I learn a lesson about making sure I give everyone, EVERYONE, in the family enough time and care, and not to jam too many things in and rush through life?
Maybe… maybe...
<Learns nothing>

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