Friday, October 26, 2012

You Got a What?...Part 2

Cats are not my thing.  They are too independent, smell funny, scratch things up, and never come to you when you call them.

I never understood the whole "I love my cat concept."  And better yet, I never understood why someone would chose a dog over a useless cat. My beliefs on my thoughts weren't about to waiver either.

Lily is no longer living under our garage's roof. She's gone, she's outta here, and better yet, she's a problem of someone else now.

Lily had been getting acclimated to our garage quite nicely.  She would literally hide from us.  When we would find her, she'd scrunch her bag of bones body into a ball and when you'd go to pet out!  Depending on her mood, she'd either hiss or scratch at you, or better yet, make herself so hideable the kids would get teary eyed because they couldn't find her.

Last Sunday, Steve and I decided for her that she just had to get out of her confined space and hunt.  Hunt the mice.  That's what we got her for, right? 

We opened the garage door (first time in three days.  My car even slept outside in this cold weather to accommodate her) and low and behold, she stayed in her hiding spot.  Where she was, well, we didn't know.  We called her, yelled at her, banged things signs of Lily.  Steve grabbed the industrial blower...a Stihl I might add, and started that puppy up!  He put the tip of the blower's nozzle in all corners of the garage.  We were expecting her to run out in fear.  Nope, she didn't.  As the blower was screaming at its full blown RPM's, we hear her.  We hear her low, loud, roaring meows coming from under a toolbox on the floor.  She had been found!  And she was not happy about a Stihl being shoved in her face having her fur blown from here to eternity.

After still not getting the desired turnout of our lame cat; that being her go outside of the garage's boundaries, I resorted to the broom.  I grabbed the yellow broom, gently took the handle at tried to scoot her from her spot. She was not going to budge.  Oh my goodness, this cat is going to make me do what I don't want to do.  And that's just what I had to do.  Yes, I had to swat her to get out.  Again, Lily was upset.  Her low growls towards me were my indication of her unhappiness.  I didn't care...she was out of our garage at that point.

As Steve and I jumped with elation, our metaphoric balloon suddenly popped!!  Lily ran onto the spare tire of Steve's truck that was parked in the driveway.  She stayed there.  For.over.six.hours.

When we arrived home later that evening, Steve wanted her gone.  His temperament for her was done to zero at this point.  No more sweet nothings were being whispered to her any longer.  He grabbed his truck keys.  He was hoping the clickety clack of his diesel truck would scare her from the spare tire, she'd run off into the nearby field and get to work as a hunter.  As the purr of the diesel's engine echoed through the air, Lily remained steadfast.  She wasn't bit.

"That's it! I'm getting this piece of work out of here once and for all."  Said Steve in a haste of anger.

He grabbed his blower, yet again, pulled the cord to start her up, and shoved that tip right in her face.  She wasn't moving.  She really wasn't.

After several minutes of the above mentioned, looks exchanged with one another like, "This cat is literally CRAZY," and attempts that were proving unsuccessful, she finally hopped down. 

Celebration time, hurray!  

Steve and I watched her scurry off into the field.  We didn't shed a tear, we didn't mourn her leaving, and we didn't wish she'd stick around either.  What she did do though was leave our house, never to return.  

When I look out the windows upstairs, I do scan the fields for her.  And when I don't find her, I smile just a little bit.  I smile for the memories she created with our family.  And I smile for the stories she's put in our storybook.  Thanks Lily!

Meet Num-Num...our new family friend.  Stay tuned for part three.  This chapter seems to be going much, much better.  Until next time!

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