Can’t believe it has taken me this long to write about my cat.
But this post is not about my cat, he’s the smart one in this tail.
Here’s the story of my husband
-who shall remain nameless because he asked me not to write about this.
Yes.. the former humor columnist who dragged my adventures through the pages of the local newspaper for years…
is now able to see how the shoe fits when it’s on the other foot.
Or more accurately, how the glove fits.
Once upon a time…I left him home alone, my husband, not my cat.
Actually I left them both home alone. Together.
At the end of that day I walked in the front door as my husband announces:
“I did something stupid today.”
Secretly, I am so very thrilled at whatever he is about to say because I just know that I will never let him forget whatever it is that he is about to confess to his understanding wife.
Maybe he forgot to pay a bill on time?
Perhaps he overloaded the washing machine?
I bet he bought generic shampoo again.
…while outside raking leaves, (yes wearing his red shoes),
he noticed the neighbor cat wandering around; it rubbed up against his leg and that is when he got his brilliant idea.
Jim My husband decided he would bring the cat inside the house and see what MY cat, Bobb (who doesn’t mind being named here- he’s not the stupid one), would do about it.
I need to fill you in here a bit, so you get the whole picture.
Jim, my husband is very jealous of my relationship with bobb; he simply doesn’t understand how I could love that cat more than
This grown man is always trying to get Bobb into trouble.
So, back to the event. The husband brings in the neighbor cat and carries him upstairs to where Bobb is sleeping (same spot/all day/everyday).
Bobb doesn’t seem to care. The neighbor cat, the one in my husband’s arms, begins to scratch and claw the @#$% out of his hand.
This is when the feline fight begins, the one between my husband and the neighbor cat.
Still Bobb just watches.
Fast forward to the end of my tail.
Once my husband gets the neighbor cat out of our house, he begins to treat his hand with soap & water and much hope. Hope that I don’t find too much pleasure in his stupidity.
eventually got done laughing, I tried to convince him that
1. I did care
2. He should go to the doctors
He didn’t believe that I cared and he was not going to the doctor.
I told him he was a scaredy cat.
He didn’t laugh.
Finally, 3 days later with an inflamed and throbbing hand, he made an appointment with his doctor.
I offered to go with him, but only because I knew it’d be a great opportunity to take some notes on this fiasco.
He was on to me, especially when I asked if I could have just 1 picture. (Hence the Google image).
IT took everything I had, but I played the caring wife and the nurse invited me in.
Sure enough it’s infected.
A tetanus shot and some antibiotics and he will still have eight lives left to live.
I have nine.
Until he reads this.