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I do not want a cat, I have teenagers.

Yesterday I adamantly refused to leave the house; and it was not because I was so devoted to the Super bowl, or that I wanted to have a lazy day.

I refused to leave the house because I don’t want a cat.  For the last several months my husband has become fixated with getting a cat. 

I blame Animal Planet’s television show My Cat from Hell hosted by Jackson Galaxy (seen below) You would think that with a title like that it would be a deterrent, no, not in my house.  My husband has been watching this show for what seems like forever, but in actuality has only been less than a year.   

For some strange reason he thinks since we have moved to Utah we should get a cat.  I do believe, he believes he will be the next  Jackson Galaxy, the cat whisperer.  He will be able to tame any cat if he only follows Jackson’s advice.  Now I actually have no doubt that Jackson’s techniques work, I do however have doubt that my husband will be able to mimic those techniques and as a result he will be a very disappointed man when the cat doesn’t just sit in his lap so he can pet it for hours on end.  The boys and I laugh hysterically at this concept.  Our bet is if we let him get a cat, he will pick one that has ADHD like the rest of us.

And much more importantly, for some insane reason the man whom I have been married to for almost 18 years thinks all of a sudden I am going to shift gears and say yes to a cat.  Now before you all get your knickers in a twist, I am not anti-cat or anti-animal, (remember we do have nine chickens).  I am anti animals in my house. I already have enough to clean up after, coordinate, and take care of- one husband and two teenage boys, plus trying to write a book, maintaining a blog and working on consulting projects.  I do not have time to cat wrangle, do vets, entertain said cat, or empty litter boxes that we would apparently have to place in numerous locations throughout the house along with scratching posts and toys??????

So I am trying to hold firm, each week my husband asks me if I want to go look at the shelter cats, and each week I say no.  Sometimes he will wrangle one of the boys to go with him, and sometimes he will just go himself.  No matter alone or with someone, he always texts me pictures of cats, whom are cute, and writes things like, “If we don’t save him today, he will die”.   I usually ignore him.

So, back to why I wouldn’t leave the house yesterday; it is simple; because I feel my resolve weakening, and not because I want a cat but because I like to see my husband happy.  So yesterday, as he always does asks me would I like to take a ride to look at cats; and I like usual say no. 

But yesterday he takes a new path and starts in on me like a cute adorable little pre-teen boy (you know before they get nasty and hate you); smiling, and laughing and teasing me that I really want a cat. Coming over and hugging me and nuzzling me, very cute behavior coming from a 53 year old man.

I told him no, he starts begging, asking, trying to convince me to go and finally I say, I am not going with you because I might break and let you have a cat because you seem so happy about it.  Yes, he thinks he won. He promised me that we wouldn’t get a cat, we would only look.  Yeah, famous last words.  I held steadfast and declared that I would not leave the house with him under any circumstances. 

He then attempted another angle and said, let’s just get out of the house, we will go to Home Depot and look at ladders, you said we need a ladder.  Yes, we need a ladder, but no I am not going with you, because you will re-route us and we will end up looking at cats.  He offered to let me drive, thinking I would then go, but because I have no sense of direction I know we would have ended up at the shelter.

Nope, not going, no way, no how, just not happening.  He left the house, alone.  I win another round, or so I thought. 

Several hours later he comes back and I hear meowing outside our bedroom door.  I am thinking I am going to kill him, he got a freakin’ cat. The door creaks open and he comes into the bedroom laughing holding up his cell phone as meowing is coming out of it.  Uggh… 

Well where’s the ladder I ask?  Oh, yeah, he didn’t go to Home Depot.  I guess no cat, no ladder. 

Sometimes life is about nothing other than having a good laugh.

2 thoughts on “I do not want a cat, I have teenagers.”

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