There are certain rules for dealing with animals. One would be, not to continually bother wild animals, say like a sting ray. It might just stick a barb into your chest. Or if you are drunk and at the zoo, don't harass the tigers. They apparently can jump farther than you think. Another one I learned as a teenager is to not let your dog chase skunks. A follow up to that rule is, tomato juice helps kill the stench of skunk on your dog. I am not an animal expert by any means. I feel bad for the pets I had when I was younger, because I really didn't know how to take care of them correctly, and I didn't have the stability that I have now. I am at a point in my life where I don't even want to go away for more than eight hours because I worry about my pets. The last time I left, was to go to Chicago for twenty four hours. My flight got cancelled in Atlanta and I had to turn around and come right back home. In those nine hours that I was gone, Mark had not given Carlotta her pills, filled Molly's water bowl, nor put food in Molly's food bowl. The only reason kitty Carlotta got fed is that she will pester you until you do. I'm sure she pestered Mark for quite a while before he caught on.
Even after thirty three years of cat ownership, I still have some things to learn. Friday night is the night I like to go out and have a few drinks with friends, this past Friday was no exception. I returned home from my libations, and noticed Fat Kitty in the back yard waiting patiently for her food. Instead of bringing food out to her, in my altered state, I decided she should come in the house and finally meet Carlotta. I figured if they got along, Fat Kitty could move in and not have to spend the hot summer outside.
So the rule is, DON'T try to introduce a new cat into your home after four vodkas. I don't care how much you think you know the little fur ball, they have their own agenda, and they also have long sharp claws that they aren't afraid to use. As I tried to put Fat Kitty on the floor, Carlotta ran up and hissed at her. Fat Kitty dug her claws into my chest, and in a deranged panic, tried to continue on up over my head. As I screamed out in pain, I ran outside with the scared kitty firmly clamped to the flesh of my chest. As I peeled her off and tried to calm her down, I realized, Fat Kitty isn't moving in tonight.