CAT!!! CAT!!!!

I offer my apologies to the cat on Crestview Road Friday evening. It is important that I make this public apology, due to the severe and relentless “attention” Little Man paid this poor feline on our evening walk Friday.

Oh, the walk started out innocently enough. It was the usual stroll through our neighborhood that we customarily take in the evenings. We head down our street and then over a couple of streets, then down a few more, and finally make our way back home. It typically lasts a nice 30 to 40 minutes worth of the evening. Pending on his mood, these can be absolutely wondrous times or promenades through the ninth plane of Hell. This walk was going pretty well. We were heading through the neighborhood at a pretty good clip. Little Man was intent on running nearly everywhere that night, which we hoped translated into him not fighting sleep so vehemently. Turns out it just made him crankier for the sleep ritual, but that is beside the point.

Anyway… we started down Crestview when Little Man notices a buff/cream colored tabby cat.

This is not THE cat, mind you, just a similar cat to give visual interest to the story. More interested now, aren’t you?

Anyway… redux… So Little Man sees said cat and makes a bee line for him. If he were a thrown football, he would have been considered a perfect spiral shot out of a cannon on a string. If he were a PK, he would have been considered a blistering rocket into the upper 90. If he were a slapshot he would have been considered a short-handed blue-liner down the 5-spot. I could go on, but I won’t. As I said, he made a bee-line for this poor cat. The cat looked a bit stunned, but none the worse for the wear. The approach was just the beginning. Little Man starts getting in the cat’s face and yelling, “CAT!!! CAT!!! CAT!!!” at the top of his lungs. Then he would look at us, point at the frightened feline and say very politely “Kitty, me-ow,” and return to his berating the cat of its familiar species name. "CAT!!! CAT!!! CAT!!!” He would be bending low over the cat screaming at the top of his lungs, and, oddly, the cat didn’t bolt. Had the 2-year old approached me with such verbal fervor, I think I would have bolted.

So the whole time this is happening to the traumatized feline, Wifey and I are telling the cat in-between fits of laughter to “Run, save yourself, we’ll hold him off as long as we can.” To no avail, the cat did not head our warnings or advice. Then the petting began. Luckily, Little Man, contrary to his faunal verbal assaults, is typically very gentle with animals. He began petting the terrorized cat mainly by patting the animal on its back. 5 minutes later we were able to extricate our child from the drubbing he was giving the poor cat. As we got 5 feet away from the poor thing, it bolted only to be jeered by our little one with a giggle and a heart felt “BYE!!!!!”

To Recap:
If the cat didn’t want to be assaulted, it should not have dressed so provocatively
Really, the cat was just asking for it
My ankle is still hurting
6 days till the blogaversary
I do still expect presents
I will be celebrating this milestone on All Hallow’s Eve instead of the 30th
Deal with it
This is Little Man enjoying Sesame Place