Love her but dont like her…

Please be aware, many be language offensive to some…and I toned it down, honestly I did!

Something to make you laugh…I came home from aerobics last night planning to cook myself two pork chops. Fed my little baby Rosie – a very small all black cat, and then she always goes outside afterwards to play. The windows were all open. It was nice out.

As I was unpacking my gym bag, thanking God for not letting my swimsuit fall apart on my body in the pool last night – it is so bad from the chlorine – I hear this little baby animal crying sound. Yes, you guessed it! My itty bitty kitty from hell has a baby rabbit that is 1/3 her size – in a death grip in her mouth. Its head out one side of Rosie’s mouth, its tail section the other, its feet trying to run. The poor thing was crying and crying.

Rosie is standing at my back door proudly displaying her hunting spoils…and staring at me as if to say, “what the hell mama, open the door so I can bring her in to show you!” I cracked the door to try and slip out, without letting her slip in as she is ever so fast, realizing that wasn’t going to work. So, I closed the door, went to the front door to sneak out, hoping to somehow get that bunny away from her. She was standing on the front porch when I opened the door. I screamed, “son of a b#tch!” and slammed the door. The crying went on for 1/2 hour, I couldn’t take it, I am yelling and pounding to drop the god forsaken bunny. Nope, nope, NOPE!!! She wasn’t giving up her catch of the day for nothing or nobody. If Godzilla came by, or Christ himself, she was prepared to die for this damn bunny. I swear the bunny’s eyes met mine in quite the pleading fashion. I think I saw a tear fall down its cheek.

I closed all the windows because I couldn’t stand the crying and I was sure my neighbor had to be laughing his ass off to the point of crying from listening to me. I heard him recall to his son the last time Rosie brought home her hunting results, “It was twilight, she forgot she was in her nighty, all I saw were her two white legs running frantically and erratically all over the back yard chasing after Rosie and a morning dove. Round two son, think we need lawn chairs and a beer for this!” I heard the poptops open. I promised a phone call to my friend Donna, I made the call. We talked about this damn killer cat of mine. We laughed and cried then talked for 45 minutes and said good bye.

Was just going to check on the great little hunter from hell, and another friend began emailing and skyping me. I screamed out, “really God??? What else?” Sent my friend a message re cat needs an immediate flea bath when I get hold of her sorry ass because I don’t allow fleas in my house; I was quite sure since it had gone quiet, when the bunny died, the fleas happily jumped on my all black cat and settled in. In fact, I am quite sure I heard the herd of fleas snickering – as they were well hid on this black carcass!

She had released her spoils and left if for her mama outside the bathroom window. By the time I walked from the bathroom to the back door, it occurred to me that she may have picked up her kill. The yard light is on a sensor which rarely works because Rosie is too small to be detected. So I cracked the door open just enough to wave my arm up and down trying to get the yard light on – I so enjoy looking like a complete fool idiot! “Hi Denise, are you waving hello to me?” (Neighbor thinks he funny – not!) When I opened the back door, she walked in the house as if to say, “I am so exhausted mama. I have had a really hard hunt. I had to run like a little maniac to get this sucker, but I got it!!! Yahoo! But I am beat.”

She lies down and looks at me as she knows I am beyond the word pissed. I faked her sorry ass out good! I bent down and began petting her and talked very sweetly to her. Then I snatched this bugga in my hand by the neck! As she had done this many times before, she knew the routine. She would now be half drown in the kitchen sink bath with her ranting and raving mama – who explained that all the fleas would surely be around her face and therefore she may go blind from the flea shampoo but mama really didn’t care at that moment.

Yes, mama knows this is a natural instinct, but she doesn’t give a rats ass. Oh hell don’t say rat, bunny’s ass about that! I had reopened some of the windows. I bathed this little sweetie of mine, sweet my ass! I scrubbed her hard, including her face which she really didn’t care for, too friggin’ bad sister!!! I was explaining and yelling about her tactics and she could hunt all she liked but I really didn’t need to see what she nailed. And that if there is one flea on me she would be given away or going to the cat heaven in the damn sky and God could deal with her.

All of a sudden, I hear my neighbor at the kitchen window, who as expected was laughing hysterically say, “Are you going to continue schooling Rosie about this, because if you are, do you mind if I record you, cause we could make money off the comedy routine!” I asked if he would like the next bath. He asked in the sink? He was informed nope, in the shower, with the damn flea bath, head to toe. He said naked? I burst out laughing with him.

I finished rinsing the heavily soaped Miss Rosie and she snapped at me, I grabbed her sorry mouth and pinched it softly, she cried – it was her feelings that were hurt, nothing else. She escaped while I was toweling her off, didn’t see her until this morning. She was very sheepish when looking for her breakfast – unlike her daily “I am a ferocious lion, feed me, or I will eat you instead” attitude. She is grounded until further notice. I aint having it! I never cooked the damn pork chops, as I was soaked with the damn flea shampoo, so I had my second shower in 2 hours – one at the gym, one at my house. Then I didn’t get all the conditioner out my hair. You know what I said to that, “fudge it! Just bloody hell fudge it!” (Well something close to fudge LOL) Eventually talked to my friend, who found this, entirely too funnny as well….funny, I don’t recall laughing last night….