This past Saturday morning I get a call from Off Da Chain telling me that he has figured out what has been making the noises we had been hearing in the garage. We both thought it was baby birds, seeing as though we already had one nest by the garage door with eggs in it. (I had to duck every time I walked out of the door, because the mother bird would swoop out of the nest as soon as the door opened, and I just knew one day, she was going to run straight into my head!). Well it turns out it wasn’t Tweety Bird, but Sylvestor , or should I say Sylvia the Cat’s litter that was purring from the corner of the garage.
We keep our garage door open (I’ll let Off da Chain explain that one) so I can only imagine why we have become an easy target for becoming a birthing center to the wild. Back to the call. ODC (my new abbreviation for Off Da Chain, but please don’t call me “ODB”- may he rest in peace) tells me to be careful when I turn into the garage because of the kittens, so I make a mental note and that’s pretty much the end of the conversation. The girls are thrilled and although I’m not a fan of cats, I must admit, once I see them, I think they are very cute.
Sunday and Monday we leave the house and our five little friends come to meet us every time the door to the garage opens. At some point, we try to explain to the girls that they have to be careful because Sylvia is very protective and she may get upset if they try to play with the kittens. At this point, we haven’t seen her in the garage, but she did stare at us from across the driveway on Sunday, when we were leaving for church. Well, this little “warning” makes the 6 yr old and the 4 yr old terrified to leave the house because now they are afraid of Sylvia and they both constantly want to know if she is out in the garage.
Tuesday, ODC and Sylvia have a confrontation. She hisses at him when he is trying to take the trash out, so he calls the S.P.C.A. They tell him due to the large number of cats in the area, they don’t do cats. They tell him that if he sets a trap, they will come get Sylvia and ODC tells them that they expect him to do their job! That’s where he leaves things when he leaves for work.
This was our first full day of homeschooling, at home, so it was kinda hectic. The 9 yr old tells me that someone is at the door. Great! I really can not stand to have unexpected interruptions to my day. Heck, I really don’t even like expected interruptions. It’s the guy from the SPCA. He’s here to get the cat, I guess (I would later find my phone with a text from ODC that read “S.P.C.A. is coming”). Mr. S.P.C.A tells me that when he drove up, Sylvia ran into the woods. He briefly explained to me the discussion he had with ODC and asks me if I want him to take the kittens. I asked him what would happen to them if he took them, and let’s just say he had to whisper the response so that the girls wouldn’t hear him. Blame it on the 4 month postpartum hormones, but I just couldn’t let that happen to another momma’s babies.
ODC comes home from work and after the usual greeting from the kittens, he walks in the door and says “Hmm, S.P.C.A. was supposed to come today”. I said, “They did” and he says “What happened?”. So I explain to him my rationale for not wanting the guy to take the kittens and I was met with a look of extreme irritation, followed by “awkward silence” (my 9 yr old used this term yesterday), and then he goes upstairs.
Once we have a chance to discuss things, I express the fact that I wasn’t in the loop of the discussion he had with Mr. S.P.C.A. and quite honestly, I obviously didn’t understand their function. In my mind, I’m about to classify ODC as the Michael Vick of the feline world for one of his suggestions (thanks to one of our high school friends on FB). When it’s all said and done, we realize the limitations of using electronic communication when dealing with situations that may need some clarification.
The kittens are still in the garage, and in true Outta Da Box fashion, I am determined to find a more humane way to evict our little squatters.
Well, well, well. I guess this is where the BIG DOG(ODC) comes in and ruins everything for the ladies of the house. It is amazing how there are always ‘two ways to skin a cat’, if you decide to go that route, or ‘two sides to every story’. Some say there is her side, his side, and the truth. I just know that the husband is normally right, but may give in just to stop the flow of emotions that may run rampant around his home…especially when there are 5 women present. Don’t worry with me because this round “It ain’t happenin.” It is funny though how I see some of what transpired very different.
FIRST OF ALL…I just did that because I can not STAND when people start a story that way (so I pray that if your reading this you will hear how confrontational it sounds and STOP) I am not sure why our garage door is always open. I think my wife(Outta da Box)/(The Sanguine) probably has had several conversations with some of her Mocha Moms or Homeschooling moms and thought she spoke to me about it.(I guess that is another entry for another day…how this happens I have not figured out yet) So I can only think what my brain will allow when it come to my FITNESS GURU wife. The garage being open probably has something to do with her not wanting to wake the girls at 5:00-5:30am when she takes off to the gym, and I am cool with that.
SECOND OF ALL…(I did that on purpose because most of the time when you argue unfairly you sound GHETTO anyway and would not use anything that sounds better) So the kittens are in our garage (5 of them) and the momma cat, Sylvia, is going to try and fight me for wanting to walk through MY GARAGE! So yes, I call the Sorry Gwinnett S.P.C.A. and they tell me they only have 4 people on staff and can not chase all the cats in Gwinnett County. He explains that I should catch them in a trap and bring Sylvia, and the kittens, to them. So I explain to him I have no clue what language he is speaking and don’t know where to begin that task. The country Georgia boy, after finding out I moved here from the north, gets obviously frustrated with me and tells me to go buy a $25 trap and “JUST CATCH THEM, because we have no laws governing cats.” I respond with the question,”So can I just put out some rat poison?” He says, “No that would be a felony!” Needless to say, the conversation did not end well. I explained to Dawn how the conversation went and asked her if she had plans to leave the house before my return and she did not so I headed off to work (pissed because now I am late).
On my way, Mr. SPCA calls and apologizes for his reaction to me and says he does not want anything to happen to the kittens and just wants me to understand their process. I explain to him that I do care about the cats but I have 4 little kittens of my own and if I have to choose he should understand why my family comes first. I told him the ages of my daughters and all I need is for my wife to take a trip to put the 4 month old in the car and trip over a kitten or run into Sylvia and they have a Breastfeeding Momma Standoff! That would not be pretty. He understood and told me that Sylvia would probably run off and the kittens would have to be put to sleep. I did not like hearing that,but being ODC, I asked him,”Why is that result different from what I proposed? He ignored me and said he would just come by and get them and I said okay. I thought to myself after hanging up they must think everyone here just has time to chase the cats they don’t have time to chase. I sent a text to my wife to let her know they were coming to remove the cats, thinking that was plenty communication. She should know they pick up cats…that’s what they do! The S.P.C.A. does not deliver pizza…they pick up animals and in this case are making a special trip to pick up cats!
So now I come home and see the cuties still in my garage and in my mind I am thinking the guy did not come and will come tomorrow because most men have a brain delay of anywhere from 30 seconds to 24 hours…myself included (the longer timeframe when it comes to yardwork and other things I don’t want to do). So when I enter the house I quickly start explaining to my wife that I did exactly what I was supposed to do and it must have been another like species (a male) that belongs to another family that missed, but my wonderful (Outta da Box) wife explains to me how she told him to leave them because they were going to be…you know 😦 I went upstairs because it is a good idea in a marriage, well if you want it to stay happy, to think before you speak. So I go upstairs and get relaxed and play a couple of scenarios in my head of positive endings and head back downstairs. The first thing I ask my wife is “Where did I miss it?” She explains and it sounded similar to her pink writing above. I asked her what she took from my text message. I mean what did she think “S.P.C.A. is coming” meant? She responded saying they would take the cats, “BUT I DID NOT KNOW…” I just let my wife know that I felt the text worked fine because using the last means of communication, I let her know that the man was coming to get the cats and when she decided to GO ANOTHER ROUTE it was up to her to communicate to me her desire to make a change. She did not do this and I think she wants to blame the TEXT FACTOR. I don’t agree and now I feel that it is her issue to handle and if I see Sylvia come at me she will start her new career as a pigskin (women if you don’t get it ask a male).
Now what I am hearing my wife say now is she read my text after, not before, Mr. S.P.C.A came to the house. This changes everything about how I feel about her response, or lack thereof, to the text…initially. I still think I should have heard from her when she read the text for us to discuss what happened and her decision making process and how she allows her 4 cutie pie daughters to influence her NOT to get Sylvia and her clan out my house. I just do not think it’s fair that I go from 4-9 kids in my home and I do not get the credit for the increase (especially when I get outdone all in one day what took God and I 10 years to create).
To be continued…besides I am too proud to call Mr. S.P.C.A. and ask him to please come back out when I know they don’t do cats. Let’s see how my Outta da Box wife fixes this.