16 Cats a Hoarder and Me

In Hot Pursuit

By on Friday, May 2, 2014
     Some days I really doubt that any one has a family as unique as mine.      
     I called my Dad yesterday to have a conversation.
     He than yelled at me on the phone
     “I can’t talk right now! I’m sitting on a toilet at a truck stop!”
     ???
     Why did he answer in the first place? Sometimes its okay to just let it go to voice mail.
     This is an older blog post from a few years ago; one that completely explains my family. 

Spending a day with my family is always an adventure. I’m sitting outside on the porch. I should be listening to the sound of… Nothing… Sweet mountain nature. Instead I hear my brother yelling at Medusa, I mean Cosmo, the satanic cat from hell. And I can hear her hissing and spitting. Yea, if you ever want to know what a rabid cat actually looks like…Just look at Cosmo.

     My mom and I just visited the zoo. I mean my Grandparents house. I don’t mean this in a negative way; there are just a lot of animals over there. I mean a lot.  My grandparents have one dog and at least three neighborhood cats (At last count) that live there full time. (Amy the pit bull only lives there part time, she does actually have a real home)
     On this sunny spring morning Mom and I had decided of course to take Abby, my parents Siamese cat for a walk (I mean a drag) one street over to visit with my Grandparents. This is nothing new. Abby goes for walks around the neighborhood all the time. She also accompanies my parents to the hardware store and the post office. My parents will not admit they are dog people. Instead they act like their cats are in fact canines.
    So we drag Abby through the neighborhood and after she does a back flip on the street (A catapult?) I carry her (See why she’s such a fat ass? This is her exercise for the day, me carrying her around the neighborhood!) Finally arriving at my grandparent’s cute mountain cottage we hustle inside to pandemonium! Dogs and cats everywhere! Usually my Grandparents can be found sitting on their front porch with all the animals and the chaos is a little more spread out. Unfortunately their crack head neighbor has been joining them on the porch and stalking them for a few days now. They are holed up inside until he goes away.
     We had just sat down, and Oliver the shiatsu was in the process of trying to bite Abby (My mom swears they are friends but from all the hissing I would not agree) when my Grandmother’s neighbor and good friend came over with her Yorkie. So now we had four cats, two dogs and five adults in the cottage. And one of them had gas. I’m pretty sure it was Abby. It probably wasn’t me.
     After an hour of trying to make a lasting friend ship with two dogs who were more interested in biting her, Abby cart wheeled her way home. I commented on how pretty my mom’s lavender was as we reached the front yard.
     “It’s fake” She told me. Yes my dad found a fake lavender plant at the dump and thinking it was real brought it home. My dad loves to bring home prizes from the dump, or gifts for my mom. This is why growing up we had ALOT of yard sales.
     I’d like to say that was it for the days family drama, but before we could all retire for the evening my Dad first had to run from the cops.
     Our local mountain highway 330 has been closed since December because of a massive rock slide that took out the entire road in places. As its being repaired its now open for commuters between six and eight in the morning and four and six in the evening. Only cars are allowed on this road during this time; no buses, no 18 wheelers, no camper’s or trailers. This is all well known common knowledge.
     My dad had to go down the hill to pick up the trailer (my parents RV) which was being fixed Again) Of course he made a mad dash up highway 330 with the trailer (And squad cars) in hot pursuit. My dad likes to bend the rules a bit when it comes to driving. Apparently his transmission was going out on his diesel truck, too. So there was no way he could out run the cops today. (Especially with a trailer attached. Of course my mom and I were sitting at home waiting for him, no idea why he was taking so long. It wasn’t until late that night that he told me about the run in with the cops. Has he told my mom yet? Who knows.
     My brother writes screenplays, and I keep telling him, we need to write a screen play about my dad.


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Comments

  2. Vanessa D.

    There are some awesome things to be found at the dump – it used to be my favorite thing as a kid to go there with my dad. Too bad he would never let me get out of the Honda Civic that had just carried a months worth of garbage there and let me explore.

    Every Sunday, my son comes to visit with his large German Shepherd that drinks like a horse and leaves a trail of toilet water (shit particles are probably included) through the house while he plays with my Golden Retriever and two cats. Complete chaos!

  3. opinion8dhermit

    I remember “scrounging” at the dump with my dad and how he got mad when “another man’s treasure” opened up…he wasn’t going to spend money to buy trash when it used to be free! I always get a bit nostalgic when I go to the dump.

  5. careymclaughlin

    First, I must say, I like the name of this blog. What a fun title. I enjoyed the “prologue” of this post and the story of the dad trying to get away from the police.

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