Chelsea "George" Bates

Chelsea "George" Bates is an almost 15 pound gray striped Calico cat who's length (when stretched out) is longer than my 10 month old and who's width about rivals that of the same 10 month old. And though my 10 month old is in the 25th percentile for babies in his age group, he is not by any means small. Nor is said cat. She is 'George' because our oldest son recently felt like she needed a middle name.













We've had Chelsea for almost 9 years. She was our first "baby" acquired a year after hubby and I got married. I convinced him over IM Chat to have us take her. One of our good friends - her 'mother" needed to give her away because she was moving in with a roommate who was deathly afraid of cats. It was a moment of weakness for him. Not only did I blindside him over IM while he was at work, I threw in the "she would get rid of our mouse problem in our apartment" reason. A pause - he relented- and I quickly disconnected from Chat so that even if he had second thoughts, he couldn't respond.


So we took in our first baby. The baby who was skittish of men and very temperamental. "The 'I love you, I hate you' type of temperamental. It took her a month to even walk up to the hubby and we had to show our friends who came in to care for her while we were away on our first anniversary trip a lot of love, because she had been a major pill to them while we were gone -- hissing, scratching, swiping at their legs. And so this personality of hers continued throughout the years.


Affectionately nicknamed "Psycho Kitty" due to her previous rep, she settled in with us and became ours. And even when we moved from our NYC apartment to New Jersey, and had the opportunity to give away the psycho, overeating, oversensitive, needy feline, we ended up bringing her with us. She sat in between our two friends in the U-Haul truck hissing and yowling all the way from Manhattan to Central New Jersey. She continued to be with us as we welcomed into the world our first son, as we moved to Pennsylvania a year later, as we had our second son a couple of years later and then moved out to Boulder, CO, four weeks after second son's birth. She rode with us in the packed car -- in her carrier in the front seat surrounded by our "stuff" as we drove through 100 degree heat across country. And after three more years of her intense attitude and neediness, she is still with us.



You know, what would we change about our cat that is constantly in the dog house because of some pee or poop incident? Though she drives us totally insane and we really feel like we want to give her away just about every other day, I realize that there isn't really anything I would change about our constant (now-neglected due to three little boys) companion - our first baby - our gorgeous household accessory.


Except...maybe her appetite. I mean really, I literally have four constant hungry mouths to feed. It's never ending...



* This post was in response to a prompt from Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop: if you could change anything about your pet, what would it be?

So What's the News?

“So what’s the news?” he asked.

“The news?” I asked.

“Now don’t tell me you didn’t see the news last night? Or the night before last? It was all over the weekend edition.”

“You know, I hadn’t. Don’t watch it. But yeah, the Rev. Dr. Bridges."

“They thought it was a heart attack. But it came back to be murder."

“Now who would want to do a thing like that?”

“Huh, ho, the real question is ‘who wouldn’t want to do a thing like that?’”


“Really?”


“Yes, indeed. He had built up a bunch of little nay-sayers around here. Though eloquent in his preaching, he was militant in his actions.”


“Wow."


“Lauren’s been questioned.”


“Yeah, so have I.”


“Oh yeah? That’s right! You were here Friday night. I thought you leave at 6?”


“I do, but I was working on a report that night that kept me later.”


“Yeah. Well, you know Ed Lorton is a suspect.”


“Coach Lorton? Why?”


“Why not? After his scandal.”


“Well, after his scandal, you figure he’d want to lay low. I mean, like he needs more attention,”


“Yeah, but a desperate man will do a desperate thing. His entire 14 year career here as basketball coach of one of the most well known teams in New York City snuffed away in a matter of days.”


“Well, he did that to himself.”


“Well, not entirely. The Rev. Dr. Bridges hammered the nails into Lorch’s coffin to make it secure. Coach Lorton will never work with this team or in this city again, even after the investigation is over. Bridges made sure of that.”



This post is in response to a writing prompt over at Red Writing Hood.

On This Day of My Birth...

...I can't believe...


...that I'm one year more than 40. When I was 12, I couldn't see beyond 30


...that I'm a mother of 3 ( I got my 12 year old wish)


...that I'm living in one of the most beautiful places on Earth ( so far from my urban roots)


...that I'm driving now ( a total 180 for me - born and raised on public transportation).


...that I get to do what I love. Write. And pursue a career in it (thanks to a supportive and loving husband)


...that I have a group of family and friends who genuinely care for me


...that I am married to a wonderfully sweet guy who is my best friend and loves me despite of who I am

AND

...that I have a spiritual center that I can turn to at all times and that helps keep me from totally losing it. Totally. Three letters: G-O-D, and he's technically a "who".


On this day of my birth I can sit back (as I'm doing now in my SUV as my infant thankfully sleeps soundly in his car seat. Aaah... 15 quiet minutes to myself!) and count my blessings.


Nice.

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