Grandma Meow Meow Moves In
When I broke the news to Hunter, he picked his head up off the rug and was like, "What? Oh come on. How many cats are we gonna have around here?" And then he dropped that old dog face of his back down and went back to sleep. Age makes him cranky and indifferent at the same time. Tuna, the cat who just moved his ass in here one day and now hangs from the kitchen screen door like he is Spiderman, gave a very loud vote of, "Nay!" And then took off after the newcomer. My sweet Sven, said, "Shit. I knew this was going to happen." Well, the poor girl was out of options. She had nowhere else to go. So. She is hanging out in our basement. And she is probably asleep on top of the hot water heater as we speak. She has been here in the black hole outside of Harmony Grove for about a month now. Let me give you a little back ground. Great Grandma Meow Meow has not always been Great Grandma Meow Meow. At one time she was simply referred to as, Meow Meow. And I am pretty sure she has never given birth. Because I am pretty sure that I paid for a certain procedure. You see, way back when, when our daughter was a new mom for the second time, she let our granddaughter name their new kitten. "Meow Meow," is what came to her cute little three year old head. Funny story. That same daughter let our grandson name their new kitten a decade prior to Meow Meow. "Mai Mai," is what shot out of his three year old perfect little lips. Well, life can be dicey. And dicey it became. That is why Mai Mai popped out of a drawer and came to live with us. Generally speaking, all pets that your children own will some day inevitably be yours, right down to their goldfish. Well, it was back when we were all still partying like it was 1999 when Mai Mai and I were visiting the veterinary clinic for her annual shots. Meow Meow, just a kitten at the time, also happened to be a patient at the same clinic. I offered to clear her pending balance, not realizing that I was about to turn the place into the old who's on first joke. "One hundred eighty-two dollars and forty-five cents," said the gal behind the counter. "Okay. Is this the total for Mai Mai and Meow Meow?" I asked. "This is for Mai Mai," she answered, sounding a little confused. "What about Meow Meow?" "Meow Meow?" "Yes, I told them on the phone that I wanted to pay for Mai Mai's appointment today and a previous balance for Meow Meow." "Who is Meow Meow?" "Meow Meow is my daughter's cat." "Oh." Well, of course the girl was new and just a kid and she didn't know how to do that kind of a thig, so when the other lady got off the phone she repeated our conversation to her. "This lady wants to pay for Mai Mai and Meow Meow." "Mai Mai and Meow Meow?" "Yes, Mai Mai and Meow Meow," she said. "Who is Mai Mai and who is Meow Meow?" "Mai Mai is her cat. Meow Meow is her daughter's cat." The lady stared at us. "Mai Mai is my cat. Meow Meow belongs to my daughter," I said. "I think Meow Meow was treated for a wound and she was spayed." "Do you have permission to pay for Meow Meow?" "What?" And then there was a bunch of scrolling on the computation machine and lots of talk about Mai Mai and Meow Meow and Meow Meow and Mai Mai. I so wanted to turn around and explain to the audience lined up on the bench against the windows, all the judgmental felines and whiny, wagging, dogs, that I was not responsible for the names of either cat. Anyway, fast forward fifteen years. Good news. Said granddaughter, namer of said kitten, is about to graduate from high school. Other news. Meow Meow is stuck in our lower level. For so many reasons, we would like to have her move upstairs with the rest of us where the sun does shine once in a while. And let us be real. I am growing weary of watching YouTube videos in the basement with Great Grandma Meow Meow sitting on my lap, even if Charlie Berens cracks us up. I got shit to do. Hunter is too tired to deal with it. "If that ratty old slipper minds her own business and stays away from my flip chips, I don't care." But then we have Tuna. Tuna has other plans for the invader. Well, I got other plans for Tuna. Today a cat carrier will be dropped in this here black hole. I got the tracking number. Says it is out for delivery. That means there will be two crates in this house. One for the little old lady downstairs and one for the youngster. I will place them inside their cell blocks and have them face one another. They can just stare at each other through the bars. And probably do a bunch of cat calling. It says on the internet they need to look into each other's eyes. I figure that sooner or later they will get bored with all the hissing and slams and they will eventually fall asleep. And then one day they will wake up and they will be best friends. Right? THE DINING ROOM TABLE STAND OFF - ROUND ONE Well, that went pretty good. Great Grandma Meow Meow kept a low, steady, kind of a, "I mean it," growl for twenty minutes straight, while Houdini across the way ate the treats I gave him and spent the rest of his sentence working on an escape.