Every time I go on my walk, I thank the Lord that he lets me live here. Right next to this walking path.
Most people think the town I live in is a God-forsaken dust bowl. You should see the grimaces when I tell outsiders where I live. But I think it's a special place and I don't care. It's kind of flat and has a lot of brown, but I think you can find beauty anywhere. You just have to look for it.
When I get back, John and the boys are usually playing outside.
We have a new friend named skittle.
Skittle is VERY personable and has fans all over the neighborhood. I've never seen anything like it.
The other night, we were walking and we saw skittle's owners pull out of their driveway and drive away. Skittle ran onto the grass and John said "I want to hold skittle".
A few feet away, one of the neighbor girls came lurking out of her house and she crept onto the grass. Before we knew what happened, she grabbed skittle and ran back to her house.
We could not believe it. I was SO sad for John that he did not get to hold his beloved little skittle. But such is life when you are as popular as skittle.
A few days later, my other neighbor started asking me about skittle. "Does skittle have an owner? Because he's so friendly and just sits at our front door....he's so cute...." There was longing in her voice. She wanted skittle too! Haha.
The only one who is NOT entirely fond of skittle would be Peach.
Do you see Peach's ears flared back?
They have a love/hate relationship. They always insist on chasing, biting, scratching, hissing. At the same time, they can't seem to resist each other. Better get Peach fixed and SOON.
We got a call from the neighbor the other day because they were fighting so bad. Peach got a very bad report that she was being unkind to skittle and being mean. Oops. We have the naughty kitty.
John and Finn have been slaving all summer over this ENORMOUS scratching post for Peach. It's not finished yet. Skittle came by and took a nap on top.
John thought the scratching post would go inside the family room. Ya know. Just taking over the entire place.
Speaking of which.
I startle EVERY time I see Peach in my bathroom sink.
John went on out of town for a conference the other day. During this time, the unthinkable happened: Peach caught her first bird. Or so we thought.
Until a friend on Facebook informed me that Peach most likely caught a dead bird because birds have been dropping dead all over our neighborhood from West Nile or something equally egregious.
I didn't know what to do. There were sticky feathers and blood everywhere and Peach was walking around outside with the dead bird hanging out of her mouth. I die.
I called my father-in-law but he was out of town. I would have to deal with the atrocity myself. Why oh why did John have to be gone at such a time like this?
I grabbed the broom and dust pan, and tried not to gag. As soon as the end of my broom touched the dead bloody bird, I let out a huge girly shriek. By now, I am trying not to faint. It was ghastly hot outside. I dropped the bird into a plastic target bag and as soon as I felt the "thud" of the weight of the bird in the bag, I shrieked again. Could not help it. I'd make a lousy hunter, of this I am sure.
I ran back inside and the boys were all abuzz. "Mommy why are you yelling? Can Peach come back inside? It's hot outside. We went Peach. Whaaaaaaa".
I knew I was in a pickle. I didn't know what to do. It WAS hot and poor Peachy could get heat stroke out here. But I did not want her inside if she was carrying some disease. She must be quarantined!
I called John and texted my father-in-law and he did some research for me. At the same time, one of my nurse friends from church said that west nile was transmitted by "skeeters" and that I need not worry. From my father-in-laws findings, it is RARE or EXTREMLY UNLIKELY for pets to give their owners bird flu or H1N1 or whatever.
So after a {long) while, I reluctantly let Peach back in, with strict instructions to the boys not to touch her. She is still a kitten and likes to bite and scratch.
It was a long few days.
If you hate cats, I know what are thinking: That's what you get for owning a varmint such as this.
I know, I know.
BUT.
You should see how my boys' faces light up every time they see or pet her. They get SO excited about building her scratching post and cry when Peach stays out too late at night. Finn gets up every morning around 3am just to give Peach some wet canned food. Then he crawls back into bed.
And I kinda have a thing for her too. I baby talk to her and she just looks at me all aloof, like "mom, stop". I get giddy when she lets me pet her more than 3 seconds. And yes, I have no idea who I am anymore.
