Garanimals Blog

September 13th, 2011 at 5:00 am

Kits Happen


I want my “no” back. You know, that all powerful mom “no”, the one that coupled with “the look” can wilt a whiner and stop a cookie thief in his tracks. Until recently, my “no” was one of the most effective in the business, honed over years of parenting six kids.

A few months ago I let my guard down. My dear husband (DH) and two of my rotten children conspired against me and brought a kitty home. Until then, I had successfully prevented more than one animal from living in our house at a time, and we already had a dog. They pulled a sneak attack and suddenly we had Pekoe.

Now, I’m telling you this part in strictest confidence. As cats go, Pekoe is the pick of the litter, really more dog than cat. She comes when you call, greets you at the door and snuggles nicely. So I decided that maybe I could live with a cat. One. Cat.

Then, the day before I was to leave town with a couple of the kids for three weeks, DH texted me (I guess this is my punishment for getting him a smart phone):

DH: Bk & wht kitten, 8 weeks old today. Last one. Med to short hair. Should I bring him home?

Me: No.

DH: crying for a home.

Me: No. You own a pet store. He is inventory. Sell him.

DH: Pekoe needs a friend.

Me: No.

I would like to point out that I used three perfectly good noes in this conversation. A short time later, I get an e-mail:

DH: I really think Pekoe would like to have another kitten around, especially when everyone is at work and school.

Me: No.

Later that day, DH calls me from his smart phone (dumb mistake). “Listen, I really think Pekoe needs a companion. This kitten is so playful. They would have fun together.”

Me: “No. There are six people and a dog in this house, so Pekoe already has seven companions.”

DH: “I think they would bond. This is the perfect time.”

Me: “No. Do you hear me? No.”

Again, many strong, emphatic noes. Several hours later, I was running around packing the car for our 3:30 a.m. departure, when DH walks in with the “other” kitty.

I just looked at him and said: “No.”

“I’ll see how they do while you’re gone,” he said. “I promise if there are any problems, he’ll go right back to the store.”

They’re still here — Pekoe, the “other” kitty and DH, although I’m definitely rethinking that last one. The rest of my family calls the “other” kitty “Tea”; I refer to him as “He Who Must Not Be Named.” If you’re looking for a cute kitty, let me know, and please, if you find my mom “no”, return it to me as soon as possible.

Susan Bearman also writes at Two Kinds of PeopleMike&Ollie: 24-weekers Who Beat the Odds and The Animal Store Blogas well as being a regular contributor to The Chicago Moms and Technorati.


 

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