Life has a way of making fun of you me when you I are am feeling all profound and full of self-importance.

I am an Obama supporter, vocal in my claims of doing anything I have to do to get him into office. The operative word is anything, and just to be clear by anything I meant anything (except huge donations donations or traveling around the country of course).

Eric, Son No. 2, a first time voter and Obama supporter, came to me a few weeks ago and said “you are a huge Obama supporter aren’t you mom?”

“Why yes I am, you know that, and by the way are you calling me fat?”

“Ha ha ha, Mom you are so funny. Do you remember my friend Jason? He is on Obama’s campaign staff and he needs a HUGE favor. And you will do ANYTHING to help Obama, right Mom?”

“Well yes” I said starting to get that sick feeling of accountability dread.

“Jason has a cat, a nice cat, and he has to go to Colorado, and maybe other places – can we watch his cat?”

“Yes, but only if I meet him and he gets along with the other cats.”

“Okay mom – you’re the best!”

Fast forward to last Friday evening, Ev’s 7th birthday celebration, with me sick as a dog and Jacob, still unsteady from his seizure, both of us grateful for Eric’s efforts to make Ev’s party all that we wanted it to be.

It's my party

It's my party!

He worked like a dog while Jacob and I were at the ER and Ev’s mom was treating Ev and her friend to an afternoon of fun things.

The smoke from the candles on Ev’s cake had barely cleared when Eric pulled me aside.

“I did good mom, didn’t I? I am really trying to be helpful – did you have a good time – is there anything else I can do?”

“No honey, thank you so much.” Hugs followed.

“Uh, mom remember my friend Jason? He leaves for Colorado tomorrow so I am bringing his cat over in a little bit.”

“Uh, WHAT – we don’t even know if he will get along with Mittens and Cloud.”

“Yes he will, he is a nice cat.”

Thornton, Cat and Obama Operative

Thornton: Cat and Obama Operative

And for the first few days he was. Until I penned the beautiful and probably too self-important post about Jacob and I was feeling all like I was the best mother ever.

Thornton brought me down to earth fast.

Last night while I was attempting to write another heartfelt what a good mom I am post – Thornton started to act odd, scratching around the family room, and especially on the BRAND NEW DOG BED I just got for Jacob’s dogs, TH and Chaucer.

“What are you doing Thornton?”

Then I made the mistake of looking away. A moment later a smell not unlike the bowels of hell assailed my nostrils.

“What the FUCK!”

Thornton took a dump on the dog’s bed.

I cursed and cleaned and then dragged my weary ass to bed where again ….

“What the FUCK?”

On my sheets, on my just CLEAN sheets and just clean comforter and floor there was kitty puke with a 3 foot spatter pattern.

I fell to my knees and renounced my self-important and heartfelt postings. Internets – I have been warned.

You've been warned!

You've been warned


9 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. tyler s clark
    Aug 21, 2008 @ 15:02:05

    What are you doing?! You know this is going to be pounced upon by McCain supporters everywhere as evidence of Obama’s unreadiness to lead. Just look at the similarities: black cat… puking on the bedspread of motherhood… Some supporter you are!

    My other thought is the shitting on the dog bed is a literary criticism between modern American stage minimalism (Thornton Wilder’s Our Town) versus Middle English verse (Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales). But that may be stretching a bit.

    Tyler – Chaucer is named after Geoffrey Chaucer and TH is named after T.H. White – Thornton I can only assume is named after some variant of Satan I am as yet unaware of.


  2. Becky
    Aug 21, 2008 @ 20:39:17

    I’m stuck between laughing and horking.

    I’m sorry, FiveHusbands. Want me to punch the cat?

    It was droppings most foul – and yes I want you to punch the cat – twice.


  3. Teena in Toronto
    Aug 21, 2008 @ 22:38:42

    Gord walked in kitty puke a couple mornings ago when he got up. Yuk!

    Kitty puke is one of the serious downsides of cat ownership.


  4. Neal
    Aug 21, 2008 @ 23:34:28

    Be vewwy, vewwy glad Jason did not have a buffalo.

    I would be glad except but by the time I got up this morning Thornton had figured out how to open the kitchen cabinets – and he had pushed the pots and pans onto the floor.

    PS Neal – you need to add your URL to the comment form so if people read your comments they can click to your site.


  5. Jan
    Aug 22, 2008 @ 10:50:01

    (I had this whole incredibly clever comment created last night and then lost my network connection. We’ll see how much of it I remember now.)

    I have a number of friends in Tucson who let their cats out every night. And after a while the cats don’t come home any more. They become Coyote Midnight Snack. Actually, a lot of these friends are begging me to come back for a visit. Would you like me to take Satan along for a visit to Tucson. (Look at his eyes in those photos. Of course he’s a spawn of Satan!)

    Here’s a case you’ll love that occurred shortly after we moved from Virginia to Tucson.

    “A 75-year-old Marana man whose cat was eaten by coyotes tried to get Arizona Game and Fish to reimburse him $328 for veterinary and cremation costs, arguing he was new to Tucson and didn’t know that coyotes ate housecats.

    “In pleading his case before the state Game and Fish Commission, Wallace Burford held up a small box containing the ashes of his cat, Jake, and said, ‘He was so torn up he had to be cremated. I’m not here for me, I’m here for Jake.'”

    There are a lot of crazy retired hippies (wait, is that redundant?) in them thar foothills. Part of the reason we moved back up here is to be around normal people again.

    Good luck with that dysfunctional cat. We do not want him. We already have three dysfunctional cats in our household and don’t need any more.

    Wait – you said There are a lot of crazy retired hippies (wait, is that redundant?) in them thar foothills. Part of the reason we moved back up here is to be around normal people again. – I am (for all intents and purposes) a crazy retired hippie. Or so my sons say.


  6. Jan
    Aug 22, 2008 @ 15:07:14

    I hate to bring up a sore subject, but you’re out of work. That’s retired by force, not by choice. So the appellation doesn’t apply to you.


  7. misselizadomuch
    Aug 22, 2008 @ 18:18:28

    This cracked me up, but I feel your pain! My cats went through a phase in which they delighted in crawling UNDER the covers of my bed in order to vomit on my sheets. This happened three times before I decided to make my bedroom off-limits to the little beasts in my absence.

    I could never figure out why they picked MY bed in particular, they have a whole house to ralph in. They are mysterious little bastards.

    Incidentally, both of my cats look exactly like Thornton.

    Go Obama!

    misseliza – you can be sure I will not let Thornton read your comment. Thank you for stopping by and commenting even though now I am going to worry every time I leave the house.


  8. oldmommy
    Aug 24, 2008 @ 17:49:58

    It’ll all be worth it when Obama wins the election. You will be able to say you played a somewhat shitty role in history. Go hippies!!!


  9. Trackback: Thornton Strikes Again « Five Husbands

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