Dread Pirate Alice

Another Chat with the sis

Me:I wasn’t planning to give them (Mom & Dad’s fancy wine glasses) to you at the wedding itself. I was planning that as part of the shower gift. See at the wedding I was planning to present you with a Jackalope

Sam: ahh ok right

Me: or would you prefer a moose head?

Sam says: um…how about none

Me: I could probably get you a moose head rather than the Jackalope although I bet I could find both on ebay

Sam: and then you die

Me: OH… c’mon… it’s all part of the fun memory of planning your wedding…what better way to remember everything about your wedding than a Jackalope adorned with daisies….in an exact replica of your wedding dress.

Sam: no

Me: you are NO FUN AT ALL

Sam: that’s right

Me: how about a gnome?

Sam: ok gnomes are cool

Me: so a gnome dressed up like a jackalope adorned with daisies in an exact replica of your wedding dress is OK?

Sam: take out the jackalope and that is fine

Me: a gnome dressed up like a moose?

Sam: no a gnome dressed like a gnome

Me: but that’s not the same…

Sam: that’s ok

Me: it doesn’t have the wild animal flavor that you were going for in a reception hall

Sam: the reception hall is very nice no animals at all

Me: you could use it as a cup holder.. we could have it taxidermed to have it’s hand out and it could hold your glass…

Sam: if you do that i’ll be angry

Me: but it’d be funny and memorable

Sam: no

Me: totally unlike all other weddings

Sam: yeah i dont want that

Me: and it’d be a fun way to remember planning your wedding…you could display the jackalope in your livingroom and be like… remember planning our wedding… all those places with the dead animals

Sam: I dont need one to remember that

Me: but it’d be cute…cuz the Jackalope would be dressed up in daisies and a wedding dress…or a tuxedo maybe…

Sam: ok don’t be suprised if an invitations doesn’t come in the mail for you

Me: LOL

Sam: why are you laughing?

Me: cuz its amusing… how angry you get just at the thought of it

Sam: its not amusing

Me: you seriously can’t take a joke…you need to lighten up a bit…

Sam: um…you should know that I can’t take a joke…

Me: yes I do know… but I thought in your old age you may have matured beyond that.

Sam: I’m still the baby HELLLOO

Me: most babies are able to take a joke…and laugh….

Sam: no

Me: just picture how stupid, tacky and silly a jackalope in a wedding dress, festooned with daisies and it’s hand out like a cup holder would be…. it’d make even the Pope laugh

Me: Nick would laugh

Me: Nick would invite me

Sam: Nick would be mad

Me: no he’d laugh….cuz the sight would make him laugh….then you’d glare at him and he’d snicker and hold it in and give me a fake frown

She hates me

So, my little kitty Mabel had to go to the vet today. Last night I pulled the carrier out of the closet and set it on the floor for her to inspect it and get used to it. About 10 minutes before we needed to leave for the vet I stuck a towel in the carrier to provide Mabel some comfort. She walked up to the carrier and was almost in, until I tried to push her little butt into the cage. She freaked and ran off. I picked her up, she freaked out more, and as I tried to put her in the cage, her claws dug into the rug and she wouldn’t let go I couldn’t get her in the carrier as long as those claws were in something. So I moved the carrier into the kitchen. Mabel hid in the bedroom. I took a break to call the vet and let him know I was running late because Mabel wasn’t cooperating. As I left a message I noticed the beads of blood forming on my arm…then the flap of flesh on the heel of my palm, she got me good.

I managed to lure her out of the bedroom but she wouldn’t go into the kitchen. I grabbed the can of cat treats and shook it, calling out to her, “Mabel-schmabel…come on baby…” Bijou came running at the sound of the shaking cat treats. Mabel followed, slowly. She sat back at the other wall of the kitchen eyeing me suspiciously.

Bijou ate several treats before Mabel was willing to approach. I handed her one treat, she sniffed at it and dropped it on the floor. Bijou promptly ate it. I tried pushing her into the carrier one more time. She ripped at my hands and wrists and wriggled away. I sighed and set the can of treats on the table, capped up the jar of peanutbutter. The amount of black fur on my white t-shirt made it appear that I was suddenly wearing a fur coat. I looked around for Mabel for another try. She was lying under the table, certain that her war with me was won.

I picked her up again, she began to cry and wail and hiss and growl. Her legs reached out in all directions hooking her talons to my clothing and flesh. I turned the carrier up on end and dropped Mabel in from the top the first attempt was rather cartoon like, each leg sprawled out to each corner of the opening keeping her from falling in. Finally I was able to release her grip and she landed on the towel with a hiss and a growl. I quickly shut the door and locked it, and set her carefully down properly.

I took stock of the wounds to my wrists and hands and arm… If one cut had gone deeper someone may have thought I had tried to slit my wrist.

I washed my hands and listened to Mabel’s wails from her cage. She was so unhappy. I took her to the vet, half an hour late and warned him to put on a full suit of armor before removing her from the cage.

“Is she a mean cat?” he asked.

“No, she’s actually a very sweet cat. She just really doesn’t like that carrier and her claws are very long. She wont let me trim them.”

Mabel is safely at the vet. My wounds have been treated. Bijou is thrilled to be the only cat in the house. I fear Mabel’s return…she’s soooo pissed…She hates me I know it..she’ll never forgive me. I really must buy a top loading cat carrier.