Tag Archive: cat


I have a problem with roadkill.

At 23, I should probably not think of wild animals in terms of Disney creatures that have homes and families and feelings. I know it seems ridiculous, but I just can’t help it. In my head, I only see Bambi’s mom, or the Beaver family from the Chronicles of Narnia, or Simba and how he ran away from Pride Rock after Mufasa’s death. These poor animals have others counting on them; they have responsibilities and a family to come home to.

When I see a raccoon’s guts splayed on the side of the road or a deer laying broken on the shoulder, my heart breaks.

On my way to work last week, I burst into tears when I saw a black cat squished in the middle of the road.  I cried for the little girl who loved that cat with her whole heart, I cried for the other kitty cat friends that Blackie had, and I cried for the person who hit the kitty and killed it.

It’s so sad to me and I can’t help but be really, really upset by it.

I hoped that I had hit my quota for roadkill for the week, but it seems that the universe had other plans. Yesterday, I experienced the most traumatizing roadkill event to date. I probably won’t tell it right or be able to express how deeply upset I was by this, but I’m going to try.

I was driving to meet my brother for dinner when this occurred.  I was driving happily, listening to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on CD, and I was halfway to my destination.  Just as I was picking up my phone from the passenger’s seat of my car to call Drew to ask him where he wanted to go for dinner, it happened.

By chance, I happened to notice a deer on the shoulder of the highway.  I can’t remember now what it was that made me come to this conclusion, but something told me that something wasn’t right about this deer. For one, it was not dead.  I could see its eyes and they were wide open.  Then, all of a sudden, it was picking itself up off the pavement, only it wasn’t going as it should have.

It all happened pretty fast, and I was driving as I was watching this, but I did see enough to be traumatized.

Poor Deery was having trouble standing up and I could tell that something was very wrong with her (I’m assuming?) hindquarters.  Deery couldn’t put any weight on her back legs. She began dragging her back legs as she tried to get away from the highway and the cars driving so fast past her. I had passed her and my vision was blurry with hot tears when I had dialed Drew via speed-dial on my phone.  By the time he picked up the phone, I was in the throes of a full-blown grief-meltdown.

What was so upsetting to me was that I did not see any vehicle near her that looked like it had been hit by a dear.  I didn’t see anyone around other than me and the other cars driving past this suffering animal. I couldn’t understand how someone could hit a deer and leave it to die in such a painful and agonizing way. The fact that where she had been hit was on top of a hill worried me.  Without the ability to use her back legs, how was she to navigate that hill to get back into the wooded safe haven? I think about it now and my heart hurts. I imagine that she fell down the hill and lay at the bottom, wishing to die because of the pain.  It is terrible, but I would have preferred someone shot her or something, to put her out of her misery.  It isn’t fair.

I explained what happened to Drew through thick sobs. He laughed at me.

After crying my eyes out and having him listen to me wail wordlessly, I tried to change the subject. He didn’t because he probably didn’t want to seem insensitive since I was so obviously upset. He’s such a good brother.

When I finally got the words out to ask him where we should go to dinner, he replied, “Well there’s this new venison place…”

That’s when a sob escaped and I hung up on him. I grabbed a mostly clean napkin off the passenger seat and wiped my eyes and blew my nose.

He called back.

“That wasn’t nice,” I cried.

He was joking and he was trying to make me laugh, but I wasn’t ready yet.  So I cried on the phone some more, cursed society and contemplated calling the police (or ANYBODY!) to have them come rescue Deery (or at least end her suffering).

I didn’t call the police, but I haven’t been able to get the image of that poor deer dragging its back legs out of my head.

I just can’t handle roadkill. It really hurts my heart.

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Happy Thanksgiving from all of us here at my house.

And by “all of us” I mean Me, Grandma and Mom. And Stella, my satanic, life-ruiner of  a cat.

I did, however, learn something about Stella this week.

Lately, Tam has been been talking an awful lot about a neighbor’s cat who comes to visit Stella. It’s not that I didn’t believe her; I mean, sure, the cat probably does exist. I did, however, question the validity of her statements regarding Stella’s behavior towards this cat. I highly doubted that Stella even entertained the idea of having a little kitty friend, what, with her being a little bitch about everything.

Stella is not social. She is not going to just walk up to the window and become friends with this rando neighbor cat who sits on our front steps by the window and stares into the house, waiting for her.

That was exactly what Tam was saying was happening. She said our little brat of a cat had a boyfriend.

So right before I left to go celebrate the biggest bar night of the year with my girlfriends, Tam called for me to come quietly and watch as Stella spent time with her boyfriend. I crept up the steps and observed Stella sitting by the window, facing a big-ass white cat with the cutest little gray face.

It seemed I was incorrect in my assumption that Stella was incapable of having a friend.

It was precious. And Tam is convinced that this precious kitty cat friend of Stella’s is a boy but I don’t know how she could possibly know.

What I like best is that Stella is pretty much one of those princesses trapped in a tower. She can’t be an indoor/outdoor cat anymore because we are afraid she will get lost since she is unfamiliar with her new surroundings since we moved.  So, she just sits inside and has suitors come to her.

I forget the purpose of telling you this story about Stella. It was not at all related to Thanksgiving.

Interesting.

Well, happy thanksgiving to you and yours all the same. 🙂

I have been thinking and thinking all day long about what I was gonna write about today. I just couldn’t think of anything. And now, I have too much material. I have too many thoughts that don’t go together at all. One, I am sure, is an over-share. One is a confession. And one is just totally random, like that time I announced at work, unprovoked, that I wished my cat would just die (and Casey got really upset).

I guess what it comes down to is that this is my blog, and I can do whatever I want here. So I’ll just over-share as much as I want. You shut your mouth; you like it, and you know it.

One: The Over-Share

Yesterday, I had been hanging out in the sweat-lodge that is my room here at Grandma’s. Except, lately, it hasn’t been too much of a sweat-lodge. The two fans I have going and standing over the vent in my room seems to be working out for me this week. Win. Anyway, I was doing something (I can’t even remember what it was anymore. HOW OLD AM I?!) and just minding my own business. Kickin’ it with me, myself, and I.

Then I decided, ohhh em gee I’m totally brillz!

Two words, my friends: bubble bath.

Never mind the fact that I don’t even knowwww the last time I took a bath. Never mind the fact that it was 58,492 degrees where my room and bathroom is. Never mind the fact that baths make me feel like I’m dying.

I was like, Self, we are sooooo doing this.

I gathered up a book, my computer for some tunes (couldn’t find my headphones), and my phone. Just in case. (bahaha).

If I was going to be “relaxing” I thought I’d set the mood, like they do in movies. I dimmed the lights in the bathroom and set my computer on the counter, far away from water with the soundtrack to The Holiday playing on my iTunes. If I woulda had candles, girrrrl, you know they woulda been lit. I went ALL out.

There I was, chillin’ in the bathtub with my vampire book and my computer started making noises. Skype noises. What. The. Fuck. Inappropriate!  My mother was calling. OF COURSE I DIDN’T ANSWER. Hello! I was in the BATHTUB.

So I reeeeeeached, awkwardly, to get my phone (careful not to drop it in the tub! That would have been dumb.) and called that bitch up on the phone. But then we got to talking and I was no longer relaxing and then I didn’t want to be talking to her while I was naked so I made us hang up.

Two: The Confession

Before tonight, I had never eaten KFC or watched a show called The Ladies of Demolition Derby.

Now I can finally cross those things off my bucket list!

Three: The Random Fact

I went looking on the interwebz for a prompt to write on my blog because I seemingly lacked the ability to open the cabinets full of thoughts in my brain. So, the prompt I was going to use was “What book could you read over and over again?” from Plinky. I had a good answer, too. I didn’t even have to think about it. I just knew immediately what book that would be.

I’ll tell you right now. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky.

What I can tell you about this book is that it’s truly amazing. I have read it a number of times and I get something new from it every single time. It makes me cry and it hurts my heart and it makes the reader feel. It’s just… amazing.

Here are a few gems from the book:

so this is my life. and i want you to know that i am both happy and sad and i’m still trying to figure out how that could be.
*the perks of being a wallflower

when the police came, they found my brother asleep on the roof. nobody knows how he got there.
*the perks of being a wallflower

i really think that everyone should have watercolors, magnetic poetry, and a harmonica.
*the perks of being a wallflower

maybe these are my glory days, and i’m not even realizing it because they don’t involve a ball.
*the perks of being a wallflower

sam and patrick looked at me. and i looked at them. and i think they knew. not anything specific really. they just knew. and i think that’s all you can ever ask from a friend.
*the perks of being a wallflower

i am very interested and fascinated by how everyone loves each other, but no one really likes each other.
*the perks of being a wallflower

Read it. You’ll love it. I just know it!

xoxo

SO. GOOD.