(The following is the second in my new series, “Old Posts to Dredge out on Slow Weekends Because When I Posted Them Originally People Cared More About the Economy and World Peace Than My Blog.” Although nothing has changed, it’s the start of a slow weekend.)
In spite of this, Dan’s mother decided one day that Dan should have a dog, so she borrowed one from friends of the family. Dan had never actually thought about having a dog, but he went along with his mom’s plan. It turned out that he didn’t have much of a chance to bond with the dog, since the dog’s main talent was an exceptional ability to flatulate, causing everyone to immediately leave whatever room it was in. Eventually, the dog was returned to its original family, and since then, Dan has appreciated his animals only in the zoo, on Animal Planet or the Discovery channel, and very occasionally, on his plate.
All that changed when Dan and I married. Along with me came a cat, Miracle. Miracle is technically my daughter’s cat. She has been temporarily living with me for about 10 of her 12 years, and will continue to do so until she decides to go to that great litter box in the sky.
After an initial period of sheer terror when he realized that he had attached himself to someone who was, in turn, attached to an animal and to several children, Dan did a fairly good job of acclimating himself to pet ownership (and child stepownership). Since the children were already grown, gone, and pretty much feeding themselves by the time Dan came onto the scene, he had only Miracle to care for. He quickly learned that Miracle’s job on the planet consisted almost entirely of getting what was in her food bowls through her digestive system and out into the world where it belonged.
I have never had a litter box. My cats have always been encouraged to spend as much time as possible outside. This system has worked beautifully for me, in spite of my having to spend most of the day letting a cat in or out. At some point, I had a cat door installed on the basement door. Miracle could then go into the basement and then out a wooden flap in the basement window. Aside from her occasionally being completely dumbfounded and scared out of her mind by the sight of the cat door that she had just used five minutes prior, it served its purpose and limited my trips to the front door to let her in or out.
The problem started when Miracle discovered that the partial dug out part of the basement was actually The World’s Largest Litter Box. She began going outside only about half the time, and our basement started to reek. Dan spent a lot of time ranting about unsavory pet behavior. I spent a lot of time ignoring him. Then, one day, he installed a huge litter box on the basement floor. I told him that putting a litter box in the basement was like giving a booklet of half price cosmetic surgery coupons to Heidi Montag. Since Dan has no idea who Heidi Montag is, the analogy fell flat.
Of course, once the litter box was in residence, Miracle stopped going outside entirely. Now, in addition to a reeking basement, we (insert the word “Dan”) had a litter box that had to be cleaned all the time. Dan went into serious crisis mode. I think he would have moved out, except he has accumulated the world’s largest selection of hair products, now that he lives in a house. There isn’t enough room in his condo to store them.
After spending several days being depressed, Dan went into action. He hammered, he taped, he spewed expletives. The result was that both cat doors were history. Miracle spent one night briefly clawing at the taped over door. Then, she stored the knowledge of the door in the same place that I store lost items, namely the Memory Black Hole.
Now, we are a Happy Little Family once again. Miracle is forced to go out in the middle of the night, instead of going down to the basement. She shreiks mews loudly and/or takes running leaps into the door until Dan wakes up and lets her out. Or she wails mews at out bedroom window until he lets her in. I, on the other hand, have been totally sleeping through this, which is amazing, since I’m the one with sleep issues. Dan can’t believe that I’m not waking up.
Sometimes things work out exactly as they should
Kathryn McCullough
November 4, 2011
Hysterical, Renee. Good to know that Miracle has had a brief, 10 year stay with you–briefest decade in history, I suppose. You are one of the few writers who can make me laugh out loud–consistently.
Hope you, Now Husband Dan, and Miracle have a lovely weekend.
Kathy
lifeintheboomerlane
November 4, 2011
Thanks, Kathy! Re the name: No, my Then Husband wasn’t a Dan. I just sort of came out with “Now Husband Dan” when I mentioned him in my first post. Like everything else that pops out of my head, I have no idea where it came from. Makes life consistently interesting.
Kathryn McCullough
November 4, 2011
Sorrry, just occured to me. Did you have a former husband also named Dan–this Dan being “Now” Husband Dan, and all? Or is that a way too logical way of looking at it?
becomingcliche
November 4, 2011
We let our cat be indoor/outdoor for a very brief period of her life. She never got the hang of it all. We’d come home at the end of the day to find her, legs crossed and yowling, on the doorstep, clearly saying “Open the flippin’ door, woman! I have to pee!”
lifeintheboomerlane
November 5, 2011
Now, that’s funny. This post was an old one. Miracle now goes in or out. She’s an equal opportunity employer.
k8edid
November 4, 2011
My husband is an alleged non-lover of pets, except that he has completely taken over care of our Shelby, and is probably more attached to her (and vice versa) even though she is supposed to be my dog. But then, he is home and I am working. So you are right, sometimes things work out exactly as they should.
lifeintheboomerlane
November 4, 2011
Funny, and I’m thinking there are others out there. I have a friend who moved in with her boyfriend 12 years ago. She had a dog, he a cat. He was a diehard cat lover. Didn’t take long before the dog was “his.”
Rebecca Latson Photography
November 5, 2011
I’m not a cat person at all, so I feel pretty sorry for Dan.
lifeintheboomerlane
November 5, 2011
You should know that while Dan insists he wants nothing to do with the cat, they nap together and she leaps onto his lap when he is at the computer. When I call her his girlfriend, he scowls.
notquiteold
November 5, 2011
Cats do a lot more than just push food through their digestive systems. They sleep.
lifeintheboomerlane
November 5, 2011
You are correct. And they also stare. At nothing.
The Good Greatsby
November 5, 2011
My wife grew up on a farm and feels the same way as your husband about pets. I probably had twenty different pets growing up and my wife never wanted one because she got enough exposure to animals while milking, herding, and cleaning up after them.
lifeintheboomerlane
November 5, 2011
Now Husband Dan grew up in about six countries, but spent much of his childhood on Rhodes. Rhodes is spectacular, but fifty-five years ago, it wasn’t the tourist destination it is now. It was pretty much post WWII poeverty-stricken. I joke that he grew up playing with rocks and goats.
She's a Maineiac
November 5, 2011
The Heidi Montag line is hysterical! I laughed through this entire post. My husband never had a single pet growing up. I had several dogs, cats, fish, guinea pigs, hamsters, birds and even a lizard at one point. When we first started dating, I had two cats. One of them decided to claw Jim up and down his entire left side upon their first meeting. Oddly enough, Jim didn’t quite warm up to cats then and still hasn’t. But he did manage to build my aging cat some steps (yes, it’s true) a little tiny staircase for my cat Cujo so he could climb up to the cat door I had in the window. And people told me I spoiled my pets, I don’t see it.
lifeintheboomerlane
November 6, 2011
Ohmygod, a little tiny staircase. Love has sent him off the edge. The first time Now Husband Dan came to my house, he was all dressed up because he was on his way to taking his mom out to some fancy dinner. He sat in a chair that Miracle had just been in, then when he left, I watched him stop before getting into the car, look down and start doing a great imitation of St Vitus Dance out there in front of my house. He had noticed the cat hair all over his suit and was slapping himself silly trying to get it off. Years later, he takes naps with Miracle and takes allergy pills when her dander gets to him. Love must be the ruination for many men.
ryoko861
November 5, 2011
Mine waits til 10:30 at night to decide he wants to go outside. No way. I’m not getting up at 1am or even 2am to let him in. And I can’t leave him outside all night because he might wander back across the street and could possibly get hit, so if he doesn’t go outside before 9:30pm, he’s stuck in for the night. Amazing how we adjust our living patterns for out pets.
lifeintheboomerlane
November 6, 2011
Seriously. Then Husband and I used to have a completely incontinent dog who we refused to put down. We threw out rugs, our comforter, put child gates all over house and lived like crazy people for a couple years.
Arindam
November 6, 2011
Wonderful post. We always had a cat in our family. So whenever someone writes about cat, it feels good. Because it is very easy for me then to connect with that post. I could not stop laughing while reading your post. Few days earlier i even wrote a post about my experience with my cat in my blog. But your post really made us smile. Thanks for this post!
lifeintheboomerlane
November 6, 2011
Thanks for visiting Life in the Boomer Lane, Arindam. I’m really happy that my post brought back good memories for you. Before I had cats, I had dogs. And I still find myself looking at what Miracle does, shaking my head, and saying “A dog would never do that.” Cats are SO unpredictable, and that’s part of their (charm).
Fragrant Liar
November 6, 2011
It’s a good thing cats have a short memory span.
lifeintheboomerlane
November 6, 2011
I seriously think they have no memory span. They are truly enlightened beings because they always live in the moment. They are simply not capable of anything else.
TheIdiotSpeaketh
November 6, 2011
I always love a good cat post 🙂
lifeintheboomerlane
November 6, 2011
You’re a funny guy, Mark. You should start a blog.
My Inner Chick
November 6, 2011
–I am a huuuuge cat person.
This post cracked me up.
—Miracle must have thought it was heaven when she discovered the mother
of all litter boxes. HA HA.
X
lifeintheboomerlane
November 6, 2011
Yes. And Now Husband Dan was in Hell.
The Simple Life of a Country Man's Wife
November 12, 2011
Funny! Our two farm cats stay outside, always. They have my husband’s shed with a cat door to go inside for food when they’re not eating mice (aka completing a day’s work). We had to remove the cat box outside by the door to teach charcoal kitty to stop going inside. He still does, and I don’t understand it.
I never thought myself to being a cat person, since I am allergic to them, but I love these two cats. As soon as I step outside and call for them, they run toward me meowing. And they roll around the deck with my small pups, much to my entertainment. They even go for walks with me, which must be a sight to see.
lifeintheboomerlane
November 12, 2011
When I had a dog and took her out for walks, the cat would wait until we were almost to the corner, and would then assume a completely neutral/bored look, and start following. Of course, if I would stop and look back at her, she would look in another direction as though she just happened to be there but really had something far better to do. Then I would continue walking and she would continue following. Cats are hilarious.
Paprika Furstenburg
December 7, 2011
I have had cats my entire life. The longest period I went without a cat was the first 6 months of my marriage at which point I could not longer stand not having a cat and we adopted a kitten. This was my husband’s first pet. He has since learned that humans don’t train cats; cats train the humans who live with them.
lifeintheboomerlane
December 7, 2011
Now Husband and I have been collared and trained.