Pussy Galore

I have cats.  I don't want cats.

There is this cat, Elsie. Elsie, the dain bramaged cat. She's not right. She's basically a wild, feral cat that my 79 year old daughter (a.k.a. The Cat Whisperer) lured into her house. She is a skiddish cat who won't let you pick her up or pet her. You come close to her and she runs.  She let me pet her once when she lived with the 79 year old and I guess she felt violated, so she won't let me near her.

Since the 79 year old went off to camp, she has been fed (and let in) by our neighbors, Al and Sandra. But for the past week, she will not leave my closed in porch.  It started when I kept my Niece's dog (formerly Betty's dog/Formerly the 79 year old's dog), Wylie.  Wylie and Elsie, the dain bramaged cat, lived together with the 79 year old. I guess she missed him in her weird, dain bramaged way. I would let him out to do his business and she would "meow" and rub up against him. But Wylie, being the pampered upper crust Shitzu that he is, had nothing to do with her. She would rub and he would literally turn his head at the little gutter snipe.  For 2 days Elsie stayed on my porch waiting for Wylie to come out.  I figured she would go back to Al and Sandra's when she was hungry, but she never left. I felt sorry for the pitiful thing, so I put some water out for her. Another day went by and she wouldn't leave. Sooooo, I bought some food and put it out for her. Well, now she won't leave.  AND, she tries desperately to come into my house. She won't let me touch her, but wants in my house. I walk out of the house and she "meows" like a crazy woman and runs and tries to sneak into the house. (FYI: The porch is shaded and cool. So, she is not out in the 100 degree weather, for you animal buffs who are freaking out)

So now that I have put out food for her, the whole dain bramaged animal neighborhood has heard about it. (They must have social networking. Perhaps they call it, "Critter". Get it? Twitter. Critter?)  Now there are 2 other cats (I've named one "Wanda Wren" because she is always "wanderin'", and the other one I just call "Stupid") a stray dog (whom I call "Dark Sally") and an Opussum, who at this time does not have a name.  What have I started?? And how does it end???

I feel sorry for the poor, pitiful little thing, I do. I really do. But I can't take care of  another crazy lady!

What would Betty say?  "I'm not gonna have an animal in my house" as she holds her dog, which she said she would never have in the house.