I Love My Cats, But Sometimes I Don’t Like Them Very Much

This is Louis.

Louis was my baby before I had a baby. He was the cat I picked when we were visiting the litter at my sweetie’s parent’s house (or I guess you could say he picked us, because we’d decided we’d take whichever cat came to greet us, and that was Louis). But he was always my favorite.

He may not be any more.

In the 10-plus years we’ve had the cats (Louis has a litter-mate, Mr. Bean, who is also ours) they’ve gotten into plenty of trouble for bringing animals into the house. There was the delightful episode with Mr. Bean releasing a chipmunk in our old house while I was doing yoga. It hid behind the bookcase in the kitchen but I somehow managed to chase it out the back door and keep Bean inside.

It used to be that every time my sweetie went away on business they would bring me an animal (dead, I guess thankfully) the first night he was gone.

Then there was the time one of them brought in a bunny and I had opened the doors and thought it had gotten away, until days later we discovered what the source of all the flies in the Bit’s room was (the poor rabbit had expired under the changing table).

And then there was last night.

I was all set to do my usual Sunday evening work after the girl had gone to bed (my sweetie does role playing on Sunday nights) and was in the middle of a blog post when I hear screeching from downstairs. At first I thought it was the Bit because it sounded like it was coming through the monitor.

Then the screeching stopped and I just heard Louis whining. I thought maybe he was complaining because he hadn’t had his supper yet and had to be shown the food bowl even though it was where it always is.

But no.

I saw that he was in the dining room so I turned on the light. He had a bunny by the neck. Still very much alive, obviously.

He dropped it when I yelled, but not for long. He picked it back up and ran to a place he thought he could hide, under the Bit’s Learning Tower in the kitchen (the kitchen, you should know, shares a wall with her room).

I’m not thinking much about the possibility of waking her up as I yell at the cat, flailing a cardboard box (it was the first big thing I found). I chased them out from under the tower but then he went under the sideboard. I got the broom and managed to get him separated from the bunny.

I opened the back door, shooed Louis away and tried to direct the poor dear out the door.

Of course that didn’t work. It hopped under the sofa instead.

Great.

So I chased the cats out of the house, locked the cat door and tried to find the bunny. I knew it was under there but I just couldn’t see it.

Why can’t I find a flashlight when I need one? I wondered. I got the utility one from the garage and peered under. The bunny was under the part of the couch that’s a big armrest and has cupholders in it. Translation: the one part of the couch that doesn’t recline or move easily.

Naturally.

So I try to scare it out by reclining the other parts of the couch. No go. I try to poke it gently with the broom, but I can’t get there.

Besides, if I got it out, I’d just have to chase it into the back yard, where two viscous cats were waiting.

I decided to call in reinforcements.

I texted my sweetie: I don’t want to break up the game, but there’s a rabbit under our couch.

He asked about its vitals, and I could tell it was still alive because it was breathing really hard (you would be, too, if you’d had a cat and a screaming woman with a broom chasing after you). Had it been deceased I probably could have handled it myself, I think. Or at least it could have waited until after the game.

So he and a couple of friends came over, gathered the box and some gloves and pulled the rabbit out from under the couch. It promptly started screaming again.

Said rabbit was deposited in the box and carried off into the front yard, where it quickly hopped away, hopefully not to certain doom at the paws of the neighbor’s dog.

All of which leaves me with one question: Why do they always have to bring in the live animals when I’m the only adult in the house?

I’m just glad the Bit is a really sound sleeper.

The good news is, this is happening right now.

Today is already looking up.