Wednesday, September 27, 2006

"Daisy 'hebby' "


That phrase was one of the first things I heard today from Jennica--"Daisy 'hebby'." (Translation: Daisy is heavy.)


Daisy, our cat had the misfortune to have all of her food eaten by raccoons during the night, and was loitering on the front porch bright and early this morning, hoping for a generous serving of breakfast. Now, I use the term "misfortune" in two ways: 1) She was hungry due to the thieving masked bandits who swiped her food, and 2) it left her in a prime position to be an early morning victim of "toddler cat torture".


For Jennica, "cat torture" started at a young age. She was about 15 months old when we got two kittens and, from day one, she decided they were hers to do with as she pleased. Only one of the original two remains (No...We didn't let Jennica kill the kitten!), and that would be today's victim. For your viewing pleasure, I have included two photos of Jen with Daisy--one when Jen was about 17 months old, and one from this morning. Notice that all four of the cat's feet are off the ground in both photos and the comfort and safety of the cat do not appear to be a primary concern to Jen.


I have to admit that I also regularly participated in cat torture as a child. I made them ride in my doll strollers and buggies, dropped them from trees (lower branches, People...GEEZ...) to see if they truly did ALWAYS land on their feet, and on one particularly memorable occasion, my dear friend Melanie and I were determined to teach a cat to swim in the creek behind her house and proceeded to spend the better part of a day giving a cat swimming lessons. (You may be asking where the parents were during said swimming lessons, but think about it...We were probably 10, old enough not to drown ourselves or each other in the creek, and we were BUSY and leaving them alone. We were also probably old enough to know that a cat is not going to learn to swim, but we'll ignore that part.)


In any case, Daisy got away repeatedly this morning, only to be recaptured and drug around some more. While Jennica was occupied with the cat, I was actually able to get a few extra things done this morning before I hauled the kids off to school. I can justify turning a blind eye to these activities by pointing out that said cat has all claws intact and is perfectly capable of defending herself. And, second, its kind of touching to know that my daughter has inherited my love for cat torture at such an early age. With any luck, it will continue into adulthood. Oh... come on now.......don't tell me that you've never tickled a sleeping cats' ears or whiskers to see how long it takes before they get up and move......

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