So I have been reading a "mommyblog" that I quite enjoy for some time now, and at the beginning of each month the blog author writes a "newsletter" to her daughter. In these newsletters she details her childs growth over the course of the last month, and tells her daughter all the cute things that she's done. This got me thinking, am I really to be considered the crazy cat lady of the neighborhood if I don't do something similar for my child? Now, I refuse to be so crazy as to write a monthly newsletter to my four legged child, but I've been pondering about what I could write for her. If one day she was able to magically be able to read "people" what would I want to say to her. The following rambling letter is what I came up with.
I know that everybody will probably be like, um, okay she thinks her cat is a person.....but this is just a hypothetical. Every person out there who's single and has a pet knows exactly how they become your children, so yeah, anyways....that's the story.
Dear Yetters,
So you're almost 3 years old now, huh, it's hard being a young adult sometimes isn't it. Just when you think you've gotten a handle on what's going on, the world will maniacally laugh at you and spit in your eye...it's a little something called LIFE, and it sucks for everybody at some point. Not that it really matters to you, as your life consists of sleeping, eating, chasing random bugs that foolishly appear in your line of vision, waiting for me to clean up the litter box and then hopping in to be first to use it, having daily smackdowns with sambi and carrying the unexplained grudge that you have against amigo.
I still can't understand what you have against amigo, but for some reason you seem to think that he's the very incarnation of satan on this earth and you will for no good reason walk up to him and begin pummeling him.....I'm beginning to wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that the one time you did actually manage to go into heat he didn't make any lewd advances towards you, which you automatically considered an insult to your newfound womanhood; as your mother the only thing I can tell you is that every chick is rejected by a guy at some point, but we all can't go around smacking men upside the head....life just doesn't work that way.
Now we really should have a talk about those demons of yours. Ok, so mommy is really, really, really tired of having to go through the massive ordeal that clipping your claws has turned into. Every two weeks you instinctually know what's going to happen when mom gets home from church so you hide yourself.....thus begins the hellish ritual. First I have to drag you out from whatever piece of furniture you've hidden under and then attempt to drive to your grandma and grandpas while you climb me and insist on sitting between my neck and the headrest of the car. After I finish Sunday lunch the ritual begins again with me having to dig you out from underneath whatever piece of furniture you've made your personal fortress in our old bedroom....I bear many battle scars from this act. After that you get mummy wrapped in a towel and mommy attempts to hold you down while grandma cuts your toenails....this cruel act on our part ellicits blood curdling screams and much struggling from your camp. Mommy and Grandma both bear many scars from this portion of the ritual as well. Now while I do find most of your screams amusing, there does get to be a certain point when my heart actually begins to break for you. I don't understand why this is so hard for you, and I wish that we didn't have to do it, but it really is for your own good. I'm sorry that it is so traumatizing to you, but I really don't know where to procure the feline valium that your grandpa suggested I put down your gullet before I bring you over. The twice monthly nail clipping is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to your demons.
Everybody who knows you knows you're one unpredictable ball of fur. You act so sweet and loving and lure people into petting you, AND THEN YOU STRIKE!! No fingers, hands, arms, faces, etc are off limits when you decide to attack. The demons are simply part of you, and as your mommy I've come to accept them as well....I just learn to get my loving in with you when they take their five minute smoke breaks.
Life with you isn't all demons and bleeding though, you can truly be one of the most intuitive cats I've ever had. I truly believe that you were sent down here to be my little girl, and therefore you have a bond with me that nobody else can understand. Grandma found you on my 24th birthday when you were small, diseased, gross, homely and in danger of falling in the ditch and drowning. She brought you in my room and sat you on my chest while I was still sleeping. The minute I set eyes on your homely little face I fell in love and knew that you were my child. You've grown to be such a beautiful girl as you've gotten older and I've grown to love you more and more. There is nothing sweeter to me than when I wake up at 3 AM and you're snuggled up in the crook between my head and my shoulder, clinging to my neck and purring. You know when I'm happy and in the mood to give you lots of loves, and you know when I'm sad and in need of loves. I will never ever forget that one time when I was crying and sobbing from the depths of my soul, you hopped up to be eye level with me and I looked at your eyes searching my face. You looked so distressed to see me crying as if my very heart would break, and then you did the only thing you knew to do...you loved me. You hopped down from the countertop onto my lap and began rubbing your face on me. You stood up on my lap and tried to lick the tears off my cheeks, while you were meowing as if to say "please don't cry mommy". I held you, and cried and cried until I felt better. You never moved, you never fidgeted or tried to get away, you just let me hold you. I learned that day that you would always have my back....I also learned that if you cry into a cat you will end up with a face full of fur.
I know that you love me as much as I love you, because every night when I pull into the garage I hear you sitting by the kitchen door crying out to me and running up to greet me when I walk in. You know that I love you, even when you're being naughty and mommy has to put you in the guestroom (that's why mommy has you instead of human children...cause you don't have the thumbs to pick up a phone and call DCFS when I do that...), or when you think that it's your personal job to sniff every single clean dish that mommy gets out of the cupboard to eat off of, or when you think that you deserve to use ALL of the pillows on the bed more than I do, mommy still loves you to pieces. You're my little girl and I will always love you. Mommy does realize that the fact that she refers to you as her child and herself as "your mommy" is probably reason number 247 on the list of why mommy isn't married, but that's a list for another day.
Thank you for being my little girl. You're the sweet little being who sits on my lap while I work on the computer, the demon possessed fireball who brings amusement into my life and quite possibly the only grandchild my parents will ever have :P
You're MY little girl and I will always love you and take care of you.
Love,
mom.
