We have a sass problem in our family.
Talk back, argue, and try to negotiate every boundary kind of sass.
“Take away their iPads!” you suggest.
“Send them to their rooms!” you insist.
Thank you very much for your parenting input.
The sass, well, it’s not coming from either of the two human teenagers who make their home under our roof.
It’s coming from—
The 3-legged cat.
Pisa is her name. As in “Leaning Tower of—“
The cat, who if I’m honest, I will admit is result of a rebound relationship.
Tripod was my first three-legged cat.
My great love for 19 years!
You, fellow animal lover, can imagine the hole in my heart when ‘Pod died.
Four months after ‘Pod passed, I got an email.
It from a local cat rescue group and went something like, “I heard you are the crazy cat lady who takes in 3-legged cats. We have this cat we’ve tried to place for more than 2 years, perhaps you could see it in your crazy cat lady heart to take her in.”
“I’m not ready for another cat,” I warned but I can come meet her.”
I know. I know. You’re laughing already.
Truth is, this was not love at first sight.
“I guess I could ‘foster’ her for a bit,” I said hesitantly as they shoved me out the door, cat carrier in hand.
“She sure talks a lot,” I confessed to my even more animal loving sister.
“That’s just her settling in,” she assured me. “She’ll be better in six months.”
Five years later, I can tell you this is like having the late Joan Rivers in a cat, “Can we talk?”
“Can we talk about food at 5:30?”
5:30, as in a.m.
“Can we talk about how I want to be held?”
“Can we talk about how I want to go outside?”
To not engage or even worse, not meet Pisa’s request, is to hear the sass, the negotiating, or if she’s feeling extra emotional, to be treated to a recounting of her two plus years in the cat shelter.
Imagine a 10-minute out-of-tune meow in C-sharp.
The question becomes, Dear Reader, what to do with a sassy cat who has a lot to say?
My husband has some ideas, few of which are legal or involve keeping the cat.
The kids have learned how to cradle Pisa like a newborn baby, which does quiet the cat, but tends to put a crimp in things like homework, their social lives, and taking a bath.
The dog is happiest because at 14 1/2, she’s deaf. Lucky dog.
And so I put it to you?
Dear Reader, do you have a conversationalist cat?
Husband thinks I’m part of the problem.
That I’ve spoiled the cat.
Can you imagine?!
Set Pisa and me straight at Daryn@DarynKagan.com
Just make sure you speak up, so that I can hear you over all the meowing.
Find more uplifting stories on my website, DarynKagan.com