Honey, it’s me, Nota. Can you hear me?
Yes, I know there’s a twelve hour time difference between here and Japan, but I wanted to talk to you before your meeting.
Well, the cat got outside after dinner tonight. We called and called for him.
I was getting worried and it was about time for the kids to go to bed when Killer finally came home.
You know how we keep him in because he hunts when he gets out and then leaves the dead moles as tribute on the doormat?
Well, he brought his prey right inside tonight.
He pranced right through the French doors and I thought he looked awfully pleased with himself.
When he dropped a dead and bloodied woodland creature at my feet. I swear he was smiling. The cat, not the dead and bloodied woodland creature.
Killer had bagged himself a chipmunk.
I screamed like a little girl and hopped up on a kitchen chair like I was a lady in a Tom and Jerry cartoon. You know, the ones where they only show the housewife’s legs?
I screamed and screamed and screamed. The kids didn’t seem to notice. I think one of them looked away from the Wii for a second.
Then the dead chipmunk got up and started to run around in a circle.
I guess that chipmunk was just playing possum. What I had thought was chipmunk blood was just cat spit.
So now the screaming took on a new tone. Gah, a spitty chipmunk was loose in the kitchen!
The kids started to wander in at this point since I was finally more interesting than Wii Bowling.
I hollered for one of them to get the cat out. Killer was circling around, trying for a second shot at the disoriented chipmunk.
Once the cat was imprisoned in the bathroom I got off the chair, got the broom (tool of choice for all vermin expulsion) and tried to sweep the spitty critter back outside.
He took evasive action and escaped into the wilds of the school room.
I’d told the kids to keep their school projects and books more organized, but he had a wealth of hiding places to choose from.
We swept him out from behind a desk and he made a break for the living room. We tracked him behind the antique console stereo (did you know chipmunks poop when they are scared?) and then both sides took a breather to regroup.
I had several scout children block the exits and sent another child back to base to procure a trap.
Armed with a plastic dish pan and a thin cookie sheet, I resumed hostilities.
As I went around one side of the stereo, the chipmunk made a break for it around the other side and got past my security perimeter.
We chased him around and around the downstairs in a circle. I heard the Benny Hill theme song in my head during the chase.
Finally, I got a shot off and spun the upside down dish pan through the air like it was Xena’s circle-weapon-thingy.
The dishpan spun through the air, hovered and dropped down perfectly over the runaway ‘munk.
I scooted the cookie sheet under the inverted pan, scooped up the little guy and took him outside to the safety of the bushes.
Okay, I had one of the kids take the chipmunk outside. I was exhausted.
So the cat is banished to the bathroom and the kids are finally in bed.
I think I lost Cool Mom Points for squealing, but gained some back winning the Chipmunk Battle.
Why am I calling? How much does it cost to neuter a cat?