My husband wrote this in an attempt to get inside my head and portray my thoughts. He did a good job. It made me laugh out loud.

Enjoy 🙂 — I did…

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Here I go, off traveling again.  I’m an author and as those of you who write for a living know, we travel a lot doing promotional events, attending workshops, doing book signings and the like. Today I’m on the road to Minneapolis, 4 hours distant, to catch a plane to Dallas for the annual Cat Writers’ Association meeting.

I love traveling. I don’t like leaving my cats. Yes, I’m a cat-lover. I miss them when I go, of course, and I don’t worry about their care. I have an excellent attendant. He is called Husband. What I worry about is the cat party results I return to.

As I said, attendant does an excellent job taking care of the cats. Maybe a bit too excellent. But the cats love it. I just know it’s a free-for-all cat party when attendant is in charge.

Attendant tries to restore order for when I return. But I see the signs of the week-long feline fiesta that’s been going on. When I get back, of course I pick them each up for a hug. Yup, everyone weighs at least 10 pounds more than when I left. “Did you overfeed again?” Straight face, no emotion — he’s way too good at that — “No, course not, just gave them what you said to feed.” Yeah, right. “And what’s this? Empty cans from cheap cat food in the garbage?” “I thought they needed a treat — they missed you and were acting up.” Oh sure. Lay the guilt on me! That explains the wild-eyed, sugar-high-hanging-off-the-overhead-light-fixtures fun I see upon walking in the door.

Then it comes. Casually, “Oh by the way, Chester got outside one day. But I caught him.” WHAT! I never let these guys out. The wolves and coyotes and foxes practically lay on the doorstep around here waiting for tasty morsels of prime-fed cats. “Well, I was hauling in rutabagas and the doors were open and later on (at OVER-feeding time, no doubt) I came up short on the count.” WHAT! “How long was he gone?” “Not too long, a day or two.” “WHAT! Was it ONE DAY OR TWO DAYS?” I’m trying to maintain control, but my voice is cracking. He, hopeful: “He chased a pine marten out of the garage and caught a chipmunk! That’s good!” I glare. Attendant spidey-senses imminent danger. Employs the well-rehearsed bait and switch routine, and changes the subject. “Kieran’s eye’s been runny. He needs lysine again.” I know the game. But I can’t help going to check on Kieran. He’s FINE. Attendant seizes upon the opportunity, escapes outside in to the garage.

My eyes are fine, mom — stop worrying!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I walk across the wood flooring of the kitchen to look at Kieran. The crunching noise under my feet like walking on the gravel road outside the house alerts me. There it is. Cat litter. Pieces of tiny clay balls strewn happily about by gleeful little cat feet. “Look Mom, I feel ten pounds lighter now!” Little cat jump and a little dance to celebrate and-Flick!  it’s airborne across the room. Sigh. I get out the broom. Attendant peeks in the door. “I cleaned up for you,” he cheerily announces. “Thank you Dear, it’s lovely here,” I respond as I dump the second whisk-pan full of litter pieces retrieved from under the appliances in to the garbage can. He reads me, knowing what’s next. “And I cleaned the boxes,” he proudly announces. “Ohh no.” Worst fears realized. I drop the broom, stalk to the boxes. Attendant vanishes…to be continued…