Bless me Father for I have sinned.
Five days in a row I lay trying to sleep at night, all the while imagining imaginative way to garrote, suffocate, hang, pound (you get the general idea) a cat that marched up and down in my back yard yowling at the moon. You see – the cat was my cat, Kola.
For the 11th year in a row I managed to resist the temptation to do the fuzzy little beast in but this week, after the fifth night in a row of falling fitfully asleep only to wake and wake again to caterwauling, I caved. I took Kola and locked him in a kitty carrier in the garage. Next morning I took him to the animal night drop box at the Sacramento County Animal Regulation offices. I filled out the paper slip & willingly gave all of my info - my name, address, phone number and information about Kola, such as that he is neutered & his shots and even his flea protection is up to date. Then I left. With Kola gone, the remainder of my day felt like a wonderful & jolly holiday.
This morning I got a call from Animal Control asking if I would come down to fill out paperwork for Kola so he could be released for adoption. When I got to the place one of the county agents was quite surprised.
‘I understand a pet getting on your nerves and giving it up after maybe a year, but waiting eleven years to give him up? I don’t get it.’
I told him Kola was not ‘my cat’ exactly. Kola belonged to my dog Chiquilla & I had long vowed if Chiquilla died before Kola did, Kola was going to be out on his furry arse. Two years ago Chiquilla broke my heart when her life ended. For the sake of her memory I managed to stall dumping Kola for two long, nerve wracking years. Then this past week, no surprises, my patience gave out. I was either going to strangle Kola and achieve the first symptom of serial killers – murdering small animals - or I was going to have to get rid of Kola.
‘He’s not a bad animal,’ I insisted, ‘it’s just that we never got along. He’d make a very sweet pet – for someone else.
The man said, ‘If you don’t mind my asking, what does he do? That cat had me laughing, and he was yowling all night.’
‘The yowling is only part of it,’ I said, ‘He does a thousand things that drive me crazy, and not the least of it is he loves raping my other cat Rum, whom I love. Honestly, the kitty rape scenes are driving me mental.’
The guy’s eyes widened but he kept his thoughts to himself.
I think I came across as a bit eccentric, but what do I care, that #@&#*ing bastard Kola is gone! I am very near to deliriously happy.
So, in short, this morning I filled out all the necessary paperwork and even paid the required $40 relinquishment fee to turn Kola over to the county. The fee seems counter productive to me because all it probably does is prompt people to abandon their pets on the streets or refuse to claim former ownership of the animals which means the creatures are not put up for adoption, and are held & then, unclaimed by the person who abandoned them - they could be put down, but at a profit.
I wish Kola the best of luck. I would bet the farm he will easily pass the psychological testing required of animals that are put up for adoption. He is older and in this kitteny time of year that won't help his odds at adoption, but who knows - with the sort of luck that restrained me from strangling him all these years, maybe some cat loving soul will adopt him and he'll have a few more years of being someone else’s pet. And if not, well at least he had 11 good years.
Color me, deliriously happy Kola is gone.
