My parents are not really cat people, although they have been adopted by stray cat named Stuffins who they love because she’s sweet but standoffish and is happy to greet customers at the taxidermy shop and keep mice at bay. But not long ago someone dumped a cat in the country (please don’t do this) and it decided it belonged to my parents, which would be fine except that this cat DEMANDS love in the form of darting out in between my mom’s feet when she walks their half of a dog and she has been terrified that she’d going to trip and break a hip and so she doesn’t pet it because that would encourage it and the cat just gets more desperate for love and basically they’re two wonderful people in an accidentally toxic relationship.
My sister and her kids visited from Washington last week and named the cat Fiddler because she sits on my parents roof during sunrise and sunset and Fiddler was thrilled with the company…
But they were so sad when they left because Fiddler was desperate for snuggles and my parents were not going to love on her because it would only encourage her to possibly murder my mother so we decided to try for a miracle and see if anyone would be interested in saving a sweet old abandoned kitty. And a few hours after I posted about her on Facebook and absolute angel named Danelle was like, “She’d fit in with us. I’ll come pick her up tonight” and later got this message from her:
And then my heart grew three sizes and my mom texted “THANK YOU FOR SAVING MY BRITTLE BONES” and it was basically the best early Mother’s Day present ever.
And (unrelated) then this popped up in my twitter:
And I shared the tweet on my instagram because I love how weird life is but then people were like, “I WANT THOSE” and also, “Maybe you should sue?” but then someone was like, “Wait, didn’t you sell these in your zazzle store a million years ago as a joke?” and turns out YES, I DID AND I HAVE A VERY BAD MEMORY.
And they are still available, although I’m not certain it’s worth $70 to have a raccoon paw at your butt crack. Depends on what does it for you, I guess. No judgement.
PS. I should clarify that my mom has “half of a dog” because she dog-sits for my uncle’s dog while he’s at work. She doesn’t take a partially dismembered dog for walks. That would be weird.