that mean lady...

My cat, Biscuit, refers to me as 'that mean lady'.  Okay, she can't really talk but I can see it in her eyes.  It's not that I have ever been cruel to her or anything, but I am not 'affectionate' in the way that my husband or my son, Adam, is.  I am allergic to her, number one.  Number two, I am the 'mom' setting and enforcing the rules, like no jumping up on the counters or no going up into the bedrooms. Ross is so allergic that if he touches a place where she has sat, then touches his face, then his eyes swell shut.  So, no sitting on the furniture. 

She is a rule-breaker, has been for the 10 years we have had her.  And no one but me actually produces consequences.  You break the rule, Bisky, you go outside to think about your behavior. 

This story has a point.

Yesterday, was going-to-the-vet day for my animals.  That means Bisky-in-a-box and she hates that box.  Biscuit has been outside all morning (her choice) and I know I have to entice her inside for THE BOX.  I go out on the deck and starting singing some nonsense like 'come home, Bisky...come home now...' to some or other tune.  Sure enough, I hear meowing...she is standing WAY across the yard looking at me suspiciously...'why is the Mean Lady calling me?' her eyes say.

I leave the door open and let her take her time, filling her bowl with food cuz I know the sound is an aphrodisiac to her.  Sure enough, she's in.

Now, the BOX.  I get it out of the garage and put it out of her sight.  Then, I find her snuggled on her heat register and try to canoodle her out of the corner.  She's not having any of it.  If the mean lady wants to pet her and pick her up, then something is very wrong.  She runs to the back door and starts to cry.  I try to soothe her, pet her, break down her defenses...then pick her up.  She's buying it.  She is thinking, that mean lady is not so bad after all. 

I'm walking and she sees... the box!  Her body stiffens in my arms and I try to put her into it.  All four legs meet the box edges and she tries to scramble out of my grip but she's in...and I close the top, saying 'It's not so bad, Biscuit' , as gently as I can. 

But I have, again, cemented my image...that Mean Lady, who doesn't let you scratch up the household woodwork, won't let you climb on the counters and lick the butter in it's dish, who shoves you into boxes and takes you to the vet.

I guess I'm just evil.

Comments

[wee]

I think you are too. LOL. But in the most adorable way! Terrific story! Especially like "Bisky-in-a-Box"!

[Staley]

Ha! What a great story!