er..............Sebastian. Well, lemme tell you
guys!!!! There's NOTHING that gets my heart going faster than my husband
running full speed towards me wide-eyed and screaming
"BASEMENT, BASEMENT, BASEMENT!!!" His arms were a flailin' above his head like
an overexcited orangutan. Only thing missing was the orange hair and a banana.
I'm thinking the ABSOLUTE worst thing, as my heart drops and I feel all the
blood rush out of my head. Stubbed every one of my bare little toes as I
galloped after him into the unexpected mayhem. Thinking to myself, how can
that big cat possibly get out? Cage doors are locked. And each door has a
chain wrapped around it with another lock. FOUR locks in all........ I had
heard loud noises that I'd
attributed to his late night bowling (his favorite toy
is a bowling ball)......was a little louder than usual, but working on
my manuscript has me a little preoccupied ...since the deadline is tomorrow
and I have 16 more chapters to edit.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, the first thing I notice is Goliath is IN his cage. Phew! Second thing I notice is one......no, two......no, three mice run past my feet. And then there was that ever-so familiar na-na-na-na-na SQUEAK from one obnoxious devil coati named Sebastian. Let himself out of his cage, he did! This time, the snap bolt just wasn't clever enough for the spawn of satan. FOUR, FIVE, SIX mice go creeping by.........with a headless one just off to the side. And he LAUGHS at me. And I swear he even pointed a paw and slapped his knee before reaching his little arms out for momma to pick him up and COMFORT him after such a fun, yet TRAUMATIZING <sarcastic sigh> coati experience.
Swear to God, I can't even explain the destruction one coati can make in only a matter of minutes. I used to have hundreds of mice. Now I have dozens of overfed carnivores that will be snacking throughout the evening. And the water bottles! That vacuum concept just doesn't fly when there are HOLES in every gosh darn water bottle. I won't even mention the overturned boxes of stuff and bedding pulled out of every cage. And everything in the fridge........aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh. But I just know the angel of hell is too smart and experienced to go near Goliath, cuz, he'll usually just sit on my shoulder, giggle and point at him as if to say, "You can't get me, you evil feline." Squeak, Squeak. Squeak.
Okay, now you guys KNOW this scenario doesn't sit well with a spouse who already complains about animals............the very spouse who discovered Sebastian WAS the spawn of satan in the first place and tried to rid the house of him in an evil plot (ok, not really - but he doesn't like him and the feeling's soooo mutual). And after 2 days of arguing over animals and my stress level raised to an unbearable level, as are my hormones........you all KNOW he dares to say nothing. Yes, the plotting spouse will save this moment as ammunition for next time.........
As for Sir Bastard.......the little creep has earned himself a padlock. I
took away all sharp objects so that he won't be able to pick the lock. And as pissed off as I am, I giggle uncontrollably to myself........perhaps in
hysteria........or perhaps just knowing that most of you are married to my
spouse and can appreciate my experience and learn from my stupidity.
Have a good evening.
Kim
(Originally printed in January 2000............not a whole lot has changed except we now have FIVE spawns of satan!)
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, the first thing I notice is Goliath is IN his cage. Phew! Second thing I notice is one......no, two......no, three mice run past my feet. And then there was that ever-so familiar na-na-na-na-na SQUEAK from one obnoxious devil coati named Sebastian. Let himself out of his cage, he did! This time, the snap bolt just wasn't clever enough for the spawn of satan. FOUR, FIVE, SIX mice go creeping by.........with a headless one just off to the side. And he LAUGHS at me. And I swear he even pointed a paw and slapped his knee before reaching his little arms out for momma to pick him up and COMFORT him after such a fun, yet TRAUMATIZING <sarcastic sigh> coati experience.
Swear to God, I can't even explain the destruction one coati can make in only a matter of minutes. I used to have hundreds of mice. Now I have dozens of overfed carnivores that will be snacking throughout the evening. And the water bottles! That vacuum concept just doesn't fly when there are HOLES in every gosh darn water bottle. I won't even mention the overturned boxes of stuff and bedding pulled out of every cage. And everything in the fridge........aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh. But I just know the angel of hell is too smart and experienced to go near Goliath, cuz, he'll usually just sit on my shoulder, giggle and point at him as if to say, "You can't get me, you evil feline." Squeak, Squeak. Squeak.
Okay, now you guys KNOW this scenario doesn't sit well with a spouse who already complains about animals............the very spouse who discovered Sebastian WAS the spawn of satan in the first place and tried to rid the house of him in an evil plot (ok, not really - but he doesn't like him and the feeling's soooo mutual). And after 2 days of arguing over animals and my stress level raised to an unbearable level, as are my hormones........you all KNOW he dares to say nothing. Yes, the plotting spouse will save this moment as ammunition for next time.........
As for Sir Bastard.......the little creep has earned himself a padlock. I
took away all sharp objects so that he won't be able to pick the lock. And as pissed off as I am, I giggle uncontrollably to myself........perhaps in
hysteria........or perhaps just knowing that most of you are married to my
spouse and can appreciate my experience and learn from my stupidity.
Have a good evening.
Kim
(Originally printed in January 2000............not a whole lot has changed except we now have FIVE spawns of satan!)
Linda LaFrentz
903-389-5339
mailto:critterhouse@hotmail.com
