As I mentioned in an earlier post, having seven very active and curious cats dramatically affects how one (meaning me) decorates for the Holidays if one wants to keep fragile collectible and keepsakes in tact. Having seven cats also dramatically alters how one (meaning Dan and I collectively) can come and go freely in our household. Just like when you have children, with pets there is an enormous amount of responsibility and commitment to their well-being, as they rely on us completely to take care of them and even leaving the house for a few hours requires a bit of foresight and planning.

Perhaps with one or two cats you can leave the house for the night – leave enough food, water, and clean litter and all should be well. With a crew of seven spoiled and mischievous cats, not so much. The ordeal of keeping the litter box clean in our house on a daily basis is overwhelming enough – I scoop anywhere from 6 to 12 times a day and have two litter boxes to attend to. Sometimes in the morning before I go to work, I have to scoop a half a dozen times alone – each cat seems to feel the need to leave me a “gift” before I walk out the door and I in turn have to immediately dispose of it. They then feel the need to immediately replenish the supply for me and so on and so on. It is a vicious, never-ending cycle! So, the thought of not scooping for more than a 24 hour duration is a scary thought indeed. My house might seem like a zoo on the surface, but I don’t ever want it to smell like one! Not to mention, cats can be very fastidious, and or vindictive in nature  – sometimes if the litter box is dirty and full, they will find another spot to go in, as they do not want to use a soiled litter box (I can’t say that I blame them on that one) or they might just “punish” an owner for daring to abandon them and leave little “presents” in hard to clean areas of the house such as the carpet, a rug, or even in your shoe!

So, that being said, traveling for Dan and I now amounts to two choices – either we don’t travel together any more which is kind of depressing, or if we do, it requires a cat sitter, which in turn, translate to my mother who is the only one I know who, number one, lives near us, number two, is brave enough to handle our rambunctious feline crew, and number three, and most importantly is someone we implicitly trust with our precious babies. Obviously my Mom knows me well, having been my Mom for 50 years! She is used to my ever-changing caravan of dogs, cats, rabbits, frogs, fish, and guinea pigs and my current gang of critters are very accustomed to her being around and enjoy her company.                                         

But here’s the thing, I am a relatively easy going person by nature, but when it comes to my cats, being a bit overboard, compulsive, obsessive and neurotic about their care is putting it mildly. In short, I am a stark raving, crazy lunatic when it comes to their well being. I love them so much and become a basket case worrying about them. The list of instructions I leave for my Mom are completely absurd and about 15 pages long, both sides of the paper! I have rules for feeding, rules for scooping litter, rules for how to open the door so the cats can’t get outside (it is NOT ALLOWED despite what the cats try to tell her), and rules for the rules. I try to convince myself that both she and all the cats will faithfully follow all these instructions and that I am, by virtue, the perfect cat parent. Ha! Who am I kidding? I can’t even get the cats to behave for a 5 minute duration and I expect they will magically be angels for her. Which, ironically, and Murphy’s Law, they are. You know how that goes – you leave your whinny, bratty kid with Grandma, apologizing for the little demon who has been a terror all day, to drop him/her off as you leave for a couple hours to go to a doctor apportionment. You fret and worry the whole time that perhaps Grandma will be tied to a chair when you get back, only to find out your precious little one has been a perfect angel in her care…

Same goes with the cats. They tend to lay low and sleep the majority of the time, reserving their pent up energy for when we get home. But psychologically I feel better knowing she is there with them. The litter stays clean, they get some companionship, and I don’t worry about their safety. Because, believe it or not, they actually have a very bizarre habit that they have not yet learned a lesson on – sometimes they will jump up to the top of our kitchen cabinets that have a trellis of ivy and pretend they are on some grand jungle adventure, only to cut the trip short to fall behind the refrigerator! I wish I could say it was a one time thing, with one cat only, but it has happened dozens of times to all of them except the eldest members Jazz and Harley. So, when I worry about them falling behind the refrigerator and being trapped for hours, my worries are not without merit. It actually requires moving the refrigerator away from the wall to rescue them, but thankfully, my Mom has not had to deal with that issue…yet…

So, all in all, it’s a very good arrangement for all of us. My Mom enjoys the break from her daily routine (I am very proud to say she is the Vice-Mayor for the city she resides in), sometimes bringing her fellow cat-loving friend, Phyllis, with her, and I am more at ease knowing my babies are in her able care. Plus, she is a cat lover too, having two of her own and because of that, I have invited her to be a guest blogger of mine tomorrow to share a special story she has on a cat named Hobo that she found as a tiny, abandoned stray many years ago. It is the perfect Christmas miracle story and I am so honored and happy that she is sharing this story with all of us to enjoy. So, without further ado, please tune in tomorrow and allow me to introduce you to my beautiful and amazing mother…