The things we do for love

I’m glad Granny isn’t alive to find out what I did last Wednesday. It’s not that what I did is morally wrong. It just lacked common sense, but I did it for love. Oh, the things we do for love.
My dear husband invited the boys and me to join him on a trip with his college students. Five days in our nation’s capital. What’s not to love, right? Only one little problem. Two cats and four kittens. In the past we’ve hired college students to care for our emotionally unstable animals ; I mean, beloved pets. That worked well. We’ve utilized the kindness of our country neighbors. That worked well, too. But this time it just seemed like we were asking too much. Now that we have kittens, there’s a maintenance element that surpasses the kindness of neighbors. I really believe if we asked a neighbor to care for two cats and four kittens for five days, we would never again find a Christmas cheese log in our mailbox. We couldn’t risk it. There had to be a better way. And hence, my confession. We boarded the cats and kittens. Yes. Boarded. We actually paid a professional veterinarian’s office to feed and water an old ugly cat which was dropped on our country place, her four fatherless kittens and a fixed male cat we got for free a few years ago. I know. You’re thankful my granny has already gone home, too. We finally herded all the feisty felines and put them in a big cage we use to trap raccoons. Worry not. Redneck livin’ is alive and well on the outskirts of Dresden.
I was shocked when I got to the vet’s office. They took all six cats out of that coon cage and acted happy and excited to have them. I was glad that someone was excited about having six cats. When they bid me farewell, I was puzzled, “Wait a minute. You’re not gonna ask for a deposit or a list of personal references? You’re not gonna write down my license plate number, driver’s license number, social security number or other identifying information? I mean, I’m not tryin’ to tell you how to run your business or anything, but if a tired-looking, middle-aged woman brought in a coon cage filled with an ugly cat, four kittens and a male cat who needs Prozac with the story that she was looking to ‘board’ them for a week ... I think I might have the sheriff’s department on speed dial.” They laughed and just said, “We know where you live, Lisa.” Shoot. I forgot about that. I had written down the correct address. Why hadn’t I thought to write down a friend’s address?
When we arrived a week later to retrieve the cats, we had traded our coon cage for a pet carrier we purchased locally for $35 plus tax, adding insult to injury. All six cats were alive and well. None of them had experienced any unforeseen “accidents.” Our boys cheered with enthusiasm at the reunion. “Oh Mom, they’ve grown! Look! They’re SO happy to see us!” Yeah. I didn’t bother to tell the boys that those cats saw us as the bridge to the next $12 bag of Cat Chow. Keep childhood wonder alive. That’s what I always say. Of course, my zeal toward cat boarding had nothing to do with cats and everything to do with our two boys. So I got out the checkbook and wrote a big check to the veterinarian’s office for keeping six cats alive. It’s OK, Granny. I did it for love.
For more information about Lisa Smartt, visit her Web site lisasmartt.com.
Published in The Messenger 10.28.09

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