January 21, 2013
My cat Turtle came back home today. She’d been gone for two weeks, but it’s felt a lot longer than that. I missed her ridiculously. Plus, I felt really guilty. The last time I’d seen her was the night she peed on my aunt’s bed and I had angrily grabbed and dumped her outside the house. She’d gone missing by the time I woke up the next morning and I was convinced that she’d run away because of me. I spent the next two weeks wandering around the house saying ‘Sorry’, and praying that she hadn’t died or something because of me. Catholics take guilt to the extreme.
You see, my family has a terrible track record with pets. One of our dogs had to be sent away because he kept killing chickens and the owner threatened to poison him. Another dog was stolen by tourists. Oh, and our cow was electrocuted by lightning – nothing Shakespeare couldn’t write a good play about.
Anyhow, I was so happy when she returned. The guilt has evaporated. Hopefully the unlucky streak has ended. She’s even more pregnant – her tummy is bulging and her voice has gone all hoarse. But, she still has a fondness for sitting and napping on laps. Bless.