metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Goodnight, Tony If you want to be a dancer, dance. If you want to be a chef, cook. If you want to be a writer, write. It is important to write, even if you think or feel you have nothing to say. Let words flow and they prime the pump and allow more to flow until words and thoughts and feelings are welling up and smothering you in a tidal wave of emotions. At least, that�s the theory. I had a long talk with Tony the Tiger while sitting on the deck Wednesday morning, just before K took him to the vet to have him neutered. I told him he was going to have a �procedure� (did not want to alarm him with the word surgery) that we hoped would make him more social, and less of a sociopath. We liked him but he was just not fitting in with our group and so this was a solution we thought might work. I hoped he would take this as an opportunity to reevaluate his choices and be a better man about things. He did not seem to be paying much attention. We went away for the weekend to Nashville last winter and when we returned we found Tony on our back deck. We had left food out for our two spayed females, MauMau and Sara, and Tony had found it and come to �roost�. He looked healthy and clean and not like he had lived on his own for very long. He could have been abandoned or he could have been following the scent of a female in heat somewhere. I took his picture and asked neighbors if they were missing a cat, but he did not belong to anyone. And so, he stayed, hanging out most of the time in the woods behind our house and showing up for meals in morning and evening. He was confrontational, aggressive and territorial and got more so as time went by, eventually hanging out on the deck instead of the woods. He got so we could pet him, but not pick him up. His attitude toward other cats caused MauMau and Sara much consternation. MauMau just began hanging with the dogs in the garage, instead of out where Tony was. Sara took the brunt of his abuse. At one point she was so agitated she peed on the carpet, rather than try to go outside where Tony was. He bothered her constantly and gave her no rest. It was at this point (the carpet pee episode) that we began discussing what to �do� with Tony. He was an uninvited guest, after all. But, at the same time, could we turn away one who came to us seeking asylum? It was during this period of debate that we discovered two kittens about 6 weeks old on the side of the road. We had to take them in, of course. I put them on the screened porch as a sanctuary of sorts. I was awakened about 3 am to sounds of cats fighting on my screened porch. Tony had the little ones cornered, but I have to say this about the scrappy one (Muffin, oh yes, I named them. Smokey and Muffin!), she was sideways and hissing with her back arched as high as it would go! As soon as I got out there, Tony leapt back out the hole (!) he had torn in the screen. Shit. I barricaded as best I could and went back to sleep. This nightly assault continued for several days until the entire front of my screened porch was barricaded with pieces of plywood in an atrocious patchwork to cover the screen hanging in shreds. We decided to have Tony neutered in an effort to curb his attitude and our appointment was Wednesday. I coaxed him into the house with canned food and the fun began trying to get a half-wild cat into a carrier. We had to use the plastic carrier because K forgot to bring home one of the metal cages they have where he works. I got him in once by putting the food inside the carrier, but as soon as I shut the little shitty plastic door, he burst out and so I could not use the food gamut anymore. He just looked at the bowl like, �Sure, lady. I�m gonna fall for that again!? Come on.� So we chased him around and while he was hanging on the windowsill I grabbed the chenille throw and covered his head and shoved him in the carrier throw and all. K said, "Are you going to leave the throw in there?" I looked at him like, �What the fu�?� What a maroon he is sometimes. Yeah, I�m gonna just open it up and ask Tony if I can have the throw back. I told K to get the duct tape. He comes back an eternity later with a little roll of black electrical tape. Seems he couldn�t find the duct tape, like he doesn�t have 9million of them in the garage! So I am taping up the carrier and use all the little black tape and he comes back with the duct tape so we use that to finish the job. I tell you that carrier was one taped up mother fucker. Because Tony is one strong and healthy mother fucker. So K takes the carrier and puts it in the trunk and heads off to the vet. I did not like Tony being in the trunk, but it is only a 10 minute ride to the vet, so I felt it would be OK. After I got to work, I called K to see how it went and when Tony could come home. K hesitated and then said, �Uh, Tony won�t be coming home.� My first thought was that he suffocated in the trunk. I said, �Is he dead?� He said no, he�s not dead. When K arrived at the vet he went inside to let them know he had Tony there and Tony was a half (or more)-wild cat and where should he take him. The assistant came out with K and K opened the trunk. Tony blasted out of the trunk and ran off out to the woods behind the vet�s office. K said, �Shit�. The assistant vet says, �Oh, that happens all the time. We�ll put food out and they usually come back.� But he is talking about tame animals and not wild boys like Tony. I doubt they or we will see him ever again. In my infinite wisdom, and my unfailing faith in duct tape, I failed to think the whole carrier situation through. While I taped it so Tony could not push the little flimsy door open, I neglected to think that he might pull it off its little fucking puny hinges. PULL. I did not think about the PULL. Yin and Yang. Push and Pull. I only thought about the push. Tony was a little smarter than I was in this regard. He probably looked at it and thought, �Stupid bitch. All I have to do is Pull the damned thing.� Well, anyway, that is what he did. He just pulled it until it popped off and squeezed through the tape and was ready to spring when they popped the trunk. One point for Tony. Tony probably thought we had gone fucking nuts. Nice people who just lost their grip and went wild and stuffed him in a box. He is probably ruing the day he ever trusted us enough for us to get him into the carrier. I feel badly that he is now out on his own, but I feel good that we were proceeding in a way that was in the best interests of all concerned, Tony, us, the new kittens, MauMau and of course Sara. Goodnight and Good Luck, Tony, wherever you are� 11:43 a.m. - 2003-09-19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||