kittywhompus

Remember the cat I had for a week? The one I kind of thought was trying to kill me? If so, you may also recall that Hanne has the cat now. Unfortunately, Hanne is in Norway until the end of the month.

My previous, though inarguably tenuous relationship with the cat puts me on the "short list" when it comes to cat sitters. Shaun is splitting the duties with me, but he's out of town for a couple days. So that leaves me in charge.

In a perfect (or should I say purr-fect) world, I know Hanne would like me to not only feed the cat, but also pet the cat, play with the cat, hold the cat, sit with the cat, and probably read stories to the cat. She even loaded her refrigerator with "my" beer to lure me into spending "quality time" with the cat.

And yet, the idea does not appeal to me in the least.

Recognizing my shortcomings when it comes to nurturing animals, today I enlisted the help of my 13 year-old niece. She petted the cat, played with the cat, held the cat, and sat with the cat while I scooped poop and restocked the kitty buffet with treats, wet food, dry food and bottled water.

Of course, I didn't tell my niece about the email Shaun had sent before he left— the email, I might add, that scared the crap out of me:

...Bella has taken to jumping on my back as I try to leave the house:)

WTF??