Kitty gone bad!

When you have kids winter is mostly made up of runny noses and stomach flu's, with a few sprinkles of healthy days in between. In fact I think I should be able to have a "coming to work pending" pass between the months of November and February. It would save me a lot of call in's. This last week brought us a nice easterly wind of Matthew and strep throat. The week before last, Harrison woke up in the night screaming in ear ache agony. And I'm sure you'll be glad I spared you from the details of our week before Christmas vomit fest.

Now, as if dealing with sick children all winter long wasn't enough, my stupid cat, Mr. Kitty, always chooses these sick days to have a little kitty mishap. Including, but not limited to, puking a hairball up on one of the kids' beds, wiping his furry little kitty butt on the downstairs carpet, smearing kitty poopie on the side of his litter box, or just simply taking a crap in the middle of the girls' bedroom. Why Kitty? Why?!!!

After cleaning Matthew's puke out of the van on Wednesday, the last thing I wanted to do was come inside to find kitty poop on my family room floor. I admit, I freaked out a little bit. Said some things to Kitty that I later regret saying. And, yes, I did lash out a little too.

I found Kitty laying ever-so-chalantly on the floor beside the dining room table. Kitty was immediately taken into my custody and thrown, not set, thrown outside into the cold January weather where he would stay until Nate came home later that afternoon. I was so angry with him that I was able to simply ignore his persistent meowing outside the back door. Then later, his meowing outside the front door. When he jumped up on the window sill so he could look me in the eye with protest, I shut the curtains. That cat had pushed my last nerve.

When Nate came home from work that day, he was equally angry at the stupid cat. So angry in fact, that he insisted we take him to the shelter that day. I don't have the heart to turn my pet into the shelter, so I suggest we take him for a ride to a nice little farm where he can live out the rest of his miserable days among the company of horses and sheep.

We did it. We finally just set our minds to it and rid ourselves of the cat. And we both are sick with guilt ever since. We found a nice place for him, but he's not used to living outside. I've been feeling so guilty in fact that I went to look for him last night, but with no success. I may try again today. Unless I can find another way to divert myself from my guilt.