Nine lives must not kick in for a while
Today Anna and I headed down to L-County to visit some family and pass out a few Mother’s Day cards. We were at my mom’s when my sister Rachael came rushing in, tears flowing down her face. I heard her in the kitchen talking to mom in rushed tones “…gone…she’s gone…her…head just flopped.”
My first thought was that her husband had left her, then my mind raced to her daughter. I moved into the kitchen and saw a small bundle in Rachael’s arms obscuring her hand.
“Kendell (her husband) was getting something out of the fridge and she got caught in the door… she just flopped over…”
At this point my mind was really racing. What had gotten caught in the door? Her hand, her daughters hand? Rachael continued to cry her eyes out as I came closer. I asked what was going on and she burst out, “That Asshole, Kendell killed another one of our kittens!!”
That is when the story started to make sense. Their cat had given birth to a liter of five kittens about a month ago. They were letting the kittens run free in the kitchen when Kendell decided to get himself some tea. At the same time he was talking to Rach and not really paying attention to what was going on. When he opened the door, the kitten (Miss Spots) stuck it head in to see what was what. When he closed the door, the head didn’t make it out in time. The door slammed and the kitten fell to the floor, it’s neck broke.
Rachael had Miss Spots in the rag. I took it from her and mom got a shoe box. We took it out back where I was greeted by the headstone of another deceased cat. It seems that Kendell was stepping over a child-safe fence they were using to shut the kittens in the kitchen. It was dark and the kitten, Bishop, was black. Kendell’s booted foot came down on it, and though it lived for about a week, it had brain damage.
I guess Bishop was Cole’s (my 8 year old nephew) favorite of the liter and he cried at the grave for an hour. His sister, Hunter (6) told him not to worry, “kittens like being in heaven.” Then she asked my dad how far down he had buried him, like she was going to dig him up after the sun went down.
My first thought was that her husband had left her, then my mind raced to her daughter. I moved into the kitchen and saw a small bundle in Rachael’s arms obscuring her hand.
“Kendell (her husband) was getting something out of the fridge and she got caught in the door… she just flopped over…”
At this point my mind was really racing. What had gotten caught in the door? Her hand, her daughters hand? Rachael continued to cry her eyes out as I came closer. I asked what was going on and she burst out, “That Asshole, Kendell killed another one of our kittens!!”
That is when the story started to make sense. Their cat had given birth to a liter of five kittens about a month ago. They were letting the kittens run free in the kitchen when Kendell decided to get himself some tea. At the same time he was talking to Rach and not really paying attention to what was going on. When he opened the door, the kitten (Miss Spots) stuck it head in to see what was what. When he closed the door, the head didn’t make it out in time. The door slammed and the kitten fell to the floor, it’s neck broke.
Rachael had Miss Spots in the rag. I took it from her and mom got a shoe box. We took it out back where I was greeted by the headstone of another deceased cat. It seems that Kendell was stepping over a child-safe fence they were using to shut the kittens in the kitchen. It was dark and the kitten, Bishop, was black. Kendell’s booted foot came down on it, and though it lived for about a week, it had brain damage.
I guess Bishop was Cole’s (my 8 year old nephew) favorite of the liter and he cried at the grave for an hour. His sister, Hunter (6) told him not to worry, “kittens like being in heaven.” Then she asked my dad how far down he had buried him, like she was going to dig him up after the sun went down.