Cuddlebug’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week

Hi! It’s me, Cuddlebug.

Us cats usually don’t complain more than once or twice a day, but last week deserves a zillion grumbles, gripes and howls.

It all started when my people came home with Identical Boys who looked about eight years old. These newcomers called my people Grammy and Grandpa, which seemed strange to me. I don’t call my people anything and they’re fine with that.

Identical Boys came in with a pile of their stuff and took over the house. They slept in the spare bedroom – the very same room that I’m not allowed to even set a paw inside. Unbelievable!

Whenever Identical Boys spotted me, they came a running. My people kept saying Identical Boys only wanted to pet me, but I ran away anyways. Strangers are not my cup of milk.

Mealtime got tough. Identical Boys discovered my food bowls and kept watching for me. I only tried eating inside the house one time, and managed to eat most of my meal before hearing Identical Boys heading my way.

I raced into the nearby laundry room and leaped onto the washing machine. In a total panic, I lost my head and jumped behind the washer and dryer. To my dismay, I discovered that my hasty decision left me trapped behind those machines.

But at least Identical Boys could not find me.

A long time later, I heard one of my people calling my name. I meowed loudly. She found me and pulled out the washer. I escaped and ran to the front door. Thankfully, my people quickly opened the door and I rushed outside.

After that, I decided to go hungry rather than dine with Identical Boys around. My people felt sorry for me and set my food bowls on the front porch where I could eat alone.

After three days and two nights, Identical Boys and their stuff left the house. Relief at last…or so I thought.

The next day, my people gathered food, clothes, sleeping bags, plus other stuff and packed it all into boxes or suitcases. A large cage appeared on the living room floor. I went over to investigate. It looked harmless…little did I know.

While I sniffed that cage, my people pushed me inside and latched the door. Then they carried me, still inside that horrible cage, into the garage and placed me on the front seat of their car.

Too stunned to say anything, I waited until we reached the end of the driveway before letting out howls loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. But my protests did no good.

Why were my people doing this to me? I hadn’t given them that much trouble recently…well, maybe I had.

After a very long car ride, we arrived at a house I remembered staying at a long time ago. Two other people lived there. My people called them Mom and Dad. I stayed with Mom and Dad for several days. They fed and played with me. But I had to stay indoors and didn’t like that. After three days my people returned and stuffed me back into that terrible cage again.

That made me really mad. I meowed and fussed the entire trip home. Ha, ha…that’ll teach them.

Back home I could once again go outside and play. I sat down in the driveway, minding my own business. I watched as a Mama Turkey and her five little poults walked along the hedgerow.

Mama Turkey apparently doesn’t like us cats. She spotted me and stormed across the lawn in my direction. Not wanting any trouble, I backed up. But that didn’t satisfy Mama Turkey, oh no. She kept coming.

I quickly sized up the situation. Mama Turkey stood taller than me and probably weighed as much. I took off and hid under a bush close to the house. Peering out from the bush, I saw Mama Turkey return to her poults.

At that moment I looked up and noticed my people gazing out an upstairs window. They had seen my speedy retreat from Mama Turkey. My fur almost blushed red with embarrassment.

I’m so glad my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week is gone for good.

http://www.countrygrandmother.wordpress.com

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About Kathie Mitchell

Kathie enjoys country living, time with family, playing cornet in community bands, crafts, gardening, and writing.
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