I met a hater today. He is an elderly gate guard at one of the subdivisions I work in. Traffic was stalled and he was standing outside my truck window, so we had no choice but to chat.
One thing lead to another and I mentioned the Doggie Dozen. The guard’s eyes widened momentarily, and then he said, with utter disdain, “I’ve got you beat. I have 22 cats. I hate cats!”
“How did you end up with that many cats if you hate them?” I asked.
“The wife,” he replied. “She never could turn The Damn Things away. It’s like they knew where to find us when they were in trouble. We were supposed to be retired, but I still have to work to pay for The Damn Things. Every last one of them has something wrong with it. The vet bills cost a fortune!”
“Well, at least they have their mom staying home to take care of them.”, I said.
To this he replied; “No, she passed away”, leaving him to deal with The Damn Things.
I wasn’t sure how long ago the guard’s wife had died, but my mind went immediately to the welfare of the cats left behind with this self-proclaimed cat hater who kept referring to them as ‘The Damn Things’ or ‘Those Damn Things’.
In my attempt to be ‘helpful’, I offered my condolences for his loss, and offered to network the cats if he needed assistance re-homing them.
His response stunned me: “My wife died 5 years ago, I’m over it. She left me with 15 of The Damn Things. Since then, she sent me 7 more. So much for retiring. Just about every one of them has something wrong it. I will be working until the day I die just to pay the vet bills. I hate cats!”
Ok, so this may just be the Crazy in me talking, but somehow I have a feeling that Those Damn Things, living with the self-proclaimed cat hater, are doing just fine. 🙂