So when I was a kid we had a dog. She was a little yapper, pain in the ass kind of dog, but she was our dog. And we loved her.
Then one day when I was maybe in the sixth grade, I came home from school and was told that my dad had run over her with the car and he had to take her to the vet, she may not make it.
I cried. I know, not very cool for the boy with the feathered hair, tight rolled pants and stone washed jeans right? Nonetheless, I cried. Now not only did I cry, but I hated my dad for running over her. As if it was his fault. But in my mind it was. After all it's always the parents fault right?
OK so I tell you that story to tell you this one.
We have a cat. He's strictly an indoor cat, but for whatever reason this cat wants to go outside. He's been neutered and still has his claws so aside from bringing crap inside like mice and bugs, there's really no reason why he couldn't go out.
So last Saturday night when the clowns were in bed, the DW came home from the store and needed a hand with the bags. Now me being the awesome hubs I am, I went out and gave her a hand. And while we were bringing the groceries in, the cat got out. She claims it was my fault. I'm going with the cat opened the door and made a break for it. Either way, it was on my watch.
So I went out and tried to get him back inside, but as soon as I'd get close, he'd take off into the field. So naturally I had to do what I had to do. Not because I care about this cat, but because of my dad and our dog. So I got my flashlight put on my shoes and went outside determined to bring back my kid's pet.
After a few attempts and scratches later, I was unsuccessful in bringing him in. I was convinced that he was gone for good, and I would have to explain to my clowns how Cat, that's sort of his name, was now gone and it was my fault.
It turns out that all those many years ago, my dad decided to save the dog. I'm sure it was against his will, but he couldn't have his kids hate him forever for running over their pet. She ended up living for nearly ten more years, and all was good. Last Saturday night around four in the morning Cat came back. I sprung up out of bed and let him back inside, because after all, I couldn't have my clowns hating me for letting their pet run away.
That cat just saved my tail....