While we're on a kitty roll . . .
Last Friday, as I was driving home from my office Christmas party, I called home to see what Romie was up to. He said the words I've told him I hate to hear - "You're not going to be very happy." This phrase ranks right up there with "I've got some bad news," and "I hate to tell you this, but..." When I hear one of these, I get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and all sorts of horrible thoughts race through my brain at warp speed. If I could just think that fast when I need to.
JUST TELL ME. No preludes, no cushioning the blow. Just come right out with it. I can take it.
Well, this time "it" was the news that a certain little wild thing had apparently gone over the speed limit for indoor cruising and knocked over my giant cat figure. Its ear got broken off and into about 50 little pieces and some powder. I had this cat at our front door all summer, taking it inside when storms blew up onto the porch. I was so careful with it. Who thought it would meet a fate such as this inside the house?
"But you can fix it, right?"
Romie can fix anything and what he can't fix, my dad can. I can't tell you how much money the two of them have saved us over the years with their wonderful handyman abilities.
"Uh ... I told you - it's in about fifty pieces and some of them are so small they're not even pieces. "
Okay, not good. So which of our little lovelies was responsible for the damage? I would have guessed it was Baby, because she's the one that takes a flying leap up onto the half wall behind the cat figure. I thought maybe she had caught it with her hind paws as she was landing on the wall. But it wasn't Baby. It was Jilly!
Romie didn't see it happen, but Jilly was the only one around as he went into the room to check out the noise. She apparently looked guilty, too. And what did Romie say to her when he discovered the ceramic cat lying broken on the floor? "Your mom isn't going to be very happy with you."
And no, I'm not. It's not something I can go out and buy another of. But I was certain that Romie could fix it, no matter what he told me over the phone. He can do anything!
So after I got home and inspected the damage and saw that it was indeed bad, I picked Jilly up and asked her what the heck did she think she was doing, picking on a cat bigger than she was? Her response? "Mrrrow," as she rubbed her head against my chin.
Romie did his best, painstakingly putting the pieces back together as if it were a jigsaw puzzle, until he ran out of pieces. There was still a gaping hole at the bottom of the ear, which you can barely see as long as you don't look at it and stand on the other side.
And there's more than one way to remedy this ...