Years ago, I watched the movie Crash.
It was overwhelming for me, and it put me off dramas for the longest time. My philosophy became, “Life is too short to watch sad things”. What it taught me was that it is okay to revel in happiness and downright silliness. Two weeks ago I sat down to write a wacky blog post, and I ended up writing about death. Now I realize once again that there is a place for brain candy in your mental diet.
A friend of mine recently posted pictures on her Facebook page of her adorable cat outside on a leash. It reminded me of a blog post I’d written on Myspace ages ago! Back to the Vault! Here is a story I posted on Valentine’s Day, 2008.
Carmen, the pet love of my life, is quite the pouter…
The story actually starts a couple months ago. I spilled something in my oven and the ensuing smoke set off my smoke detector. The only way to clear the air was to open my back door. Carmen was cool with this for a while, but then curiosity got the better of her, and out she went. She went all of 10 feet before being petrified with fear, but about every 3 weeks ever since then she has stood at the back door and cried to be let out.
My landlord was wonderful in letting me adopt her. One of the conditions was that she was an indoor only kitty. While opening the door would have shut her up, I didn’t want to risk loosing her over it. So, the idea was hatched of taking her out for a walk … on a leash.
I bought a kitty-size harness and got her used to it. We played with it, she bit it, she carried it around the house. I figured this was a good sign. I would put it on every once in a while, and she was cool with that, too.
So yesterday she was not suspecting anything when I put her in the harness. I then snapped on the leash while holding her. No response. Good, I thought. I then opened the front door and set her on the doorstep. She took a step, realized the leash was attached to her, and went ballistic! She plopped on her side and immediately started attacking the leash. When she was unable to get it off, she started screaming bloody murder. You would have thought I was stabbing her with a fork instead of sitting there lightly holding on to the leash. The cries did not let up.
After I saw my neighbor’s blinds move, I decided to take her onto the back porch instead. Maybe this would be better. Ahhhh, no. She continued to cry and attack the leash.
I let her back inside, took off the harness and leash, and let her be. If only she would have let me be. She cried, a really pissed off cry, at me for about an hour, and then she gave herself a rather intensive all-over bath to make herself feel better.
She was fine after that, even snuggling up to me to take a nap. I’ll wait a couple weeks before I try again. Maybe I’ll take her to a park next time.
[In my efforts to take a picture of Carmen and the harness over this past weekend, I obviously brought up some bad memories. (Like with me and Crash!) This was the closest I could get it to her, and only when I wasn’t holding it.]