My husband is in the Navy and our relationship has kind of been whirlwind and kind of not. We’ve known each other for 15 years but we dated for two years before we got married and we were engaged for about a week and a half before we married, due mostly impart to the Navy and their agenda. Thanks Uncle Sam! You’re the bestest!
Our kids are my cat Gwennie and our cat Little Miss (pictured below).
Well, according to my husband, Little Miss is actually his cat but he adopted her three weeks before he deployed for seven months so I consider her to be my cat. She, on the other hand, loves everyone always and God forbid you ever have anything on your lap that isn’t her because when she wants attention, she wants attention and she expects you to drop everything for her. She actually pushed my iPad off of my lap one day because it was in her way.
Alas, this story is about Gwennie. Poor Gwennie never had a daddy. When asked who her daddy was she’d say, “What’s a daddy?”
Gwennie was okay with the fact that she didn’t have a daddy. She has a momma who loves her, a plethora of puff balls, and a magically reappearing supply of kibbles in her dish. What else can I tell you? My cat has a hard life.
As I mentioned in earlier blogs, Gwennie does not like boys and therefore does not like my husband. She never lets him forget that she does not like him. He could be walking by and she’d reach out and hit or hiss at him. It’s both funny and sad.
About three weeks ago my husband and I married. It was a quick ceremony done at the court yard of Brennan’s restaurant located in the French Quarter of New Orleans. We eloped which made it all the more romantic. It was a great ceremony. I’m anxiously awaiting the pictures.
Of course during the vows, for just a split second, I thought about throwing out, “Chris, will you take my hand in marriage, despite my cat?”
‘Cause that’s how much she doesn’t like him.
When I came home from the honeymoon I decided it was time to sit down and have a little chat with Gwennie about recent events.
I sat down on the couch and she curled up in my lap. I scratched her chin and her cheeks and she purred and purred and smiled a great big kitty smile. I knew the news would devastate her because she was so looking forward to the day that Chris would take Little Miss and leave for good.
“Gwennie,” I sighed. “I have something to tell you.”
She stretched out her paws and rolled onto her back. Begging for a belly rub.
“What’s that, momma.”
“Well, the boy and I (she refers to my husband as ‘the boy’),” I paused. “While we were gone, we got married.”
“You got married,” she asked? “Why would you do that? Don’t you love me anymore?”
“Of course I do,” I said. “But I love the boy too. And now you have a dadda.”
She got quiet and then rolled back onto her stomach as if she was a scorned woman in bed who just overheard her lover talking to another woman. Even though she was still on my lap I knew better than to pet her. I’d probably loose a digit if I did.
After another minute of quiet, Gwennie looked up at me.
“Well momma,” she said. “I guess there is something good to come out of this.”
“What’s that,” I asked?
“At least now I’m not a little bastard anymore.”
Oh for the love of Twinkie’s. What in the hell am I gonna do with this cat?
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