Crazy Cat Lady

August Crazy Contest Entry One:

Quite a few years ago I lived in a house on the outskirts of town. My Mom lived in a small cottage on the property next door.

One afternoon while we were having coffee, she told me that rather than go to the hairdresser like she usually does, she decided that she would wash and roll her hair and lay out in the sun while it dried. A little while later I saw her heading to the back yard with her blanket to enjoy an afternoon of sunbathing.

It couldn’t have been about 15 minutes after she got settled in, I looked out the window and saw her storming around the side of the house and heading for my front door. I rushed to the door to see what was wrong and when I opened the door she yelled:Although it wasn’t readily apparent to me at that moment, I knew it must be something terrible because after all, that’s why parents give us middle names. To let us know we’re really in trouble! The kind of trouble where our first name alone just won’t do.

After looking her over for a minute I could see what looked like little wet droplets of something on her lavender bathing suit top.

Then it hit me. I couldn’t hold back.

I broke out into uncontrollable laughter.

I thought I would just die as she angrily described the event….”So there I was, just enjoying the sun when all of a sudden it feels like it’s starting to rain. I opened my eyes and all I could see was this long black cat tail waving above my face.”

You see, I had this little black male cat named Zephyr. Anyone who is familiar with cats knows that in a cat’s eyes, all things belong to cats.

Being one of eight cats, Zephyr was determined to mark anything he felt belonged to him by spraying it. Cat spray is a horrible mix of urine and a pungent oily musk that they use to mark their territory. He would spray anything from a five gallon bucket that my husband brought home to a new lawn chair.

We even had to warn our guests that would come over for a visit to make sure to roll their car windows up or else Zephyr would spray the ins

ide of their car.

On this particular day though, it was my mother’s freshly washed and rolled hair. I don’t know if it was the rollers themselves, or the Dippity-Doo she used to roll her hair with that incited the heinous act, but the fact remained that she was as

mad as a hornet! She spent all that time washing and rolling her hair only to have to take the rollers out, wash her hair and roll it back up again.

Later that day, after she had calmed down, I just had to ask her the question that was burning inside of me....