The Raft

Tonight I read Abby Kiss Goodnight Sam before bed. I hadn't read her this book in a very long time but there was a time when I knew the words by heart. Ok, I still pretty much do. It made me remember how much she loved it when she was so little. Like, Wyatt's age.
Which leads me to not wanting to but inevitably comparing Wyatt at 19 months to Abigail at 19 months.
I swore I would never "compare my children" but you can't avoid it. As a parent, you compare constantly. It's not like I'm saying "Wyatt, Abby was speaking in full sentences by now, what the fuck is wrong with you" and then smacking him. I just ponder and admire the differences.

Wyatt jumps up and down with both feet.
Abby didn't do anything with her feet until she was almost 2!

Wyatt clearly communicates with pointing, grabbing, yelling, grunting and using his own words.
Abby clearly spoke with more than 2-3 word sentences and phrases.

Wyatt climbs, digs, jumps, runs and harasses every thing or person in his path.
Abby was a peaceful, calm, still baby.

They are both the happiest babies you have ever met.
They both sleep well but by now Abby was done napping and Wyatt still loves at least 2 hours a day!
They both eat well but Wyatt will eat around a green vegetable and then spit it out whole.
They both communicate well, albeit differently.

It's crazy - it could go on and on and on... let me change the subject...

This morning, I skipped my shower in favor of getting Abby to gymnastics on time. We were on our way, driving up to town, with about 5 minutes to spare. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear... but a little kitty cat, sitting on the side of the road.

As I passed him, I thought "that's an odd spot for a cat to sunbathe" and I realized he must have been hit by a car. So, of course I turned that car right around. Of course I knew I was about to screw up my very first early arrival to gymnastics ever. But of course, I couldn't leave what I was pretty sure was an injured kitty cat on the side of the road.

Sure enough, the cat was hit. Not dead but dazed, in shock, and bleeding. As I was approaching him, another car pulled in behind me and honked. I was in someone's driveway so I thought maybe that was who was honking but it wasn't, it was the woman who hit the cat. She was obviously shaken herself. She said that he came out of nowhere and there was another car coming from the other way so there was nothing she could do, she couldn't swerve anywhere. She felt terrible and she was obviously stressed out. She had scrubs on, she told me she was on her way to work.

Then, another woman, the neighbor from across the street, walked over. I thought she might know who's cat it was but she didn't, she just saw the cat and then our cars and came over to help. But she wasn't much of a help. She actually yelled at the poor old lady who had hit the cat asking her "why would you hit the cat with your car?"
This poor lady was so shaken and sad she couldn't even give a good answer. Now, even if this woman was 40 and not the obvious near-70 she was, the lady from across the street was way out of line. She didn't even know that cat, so you can't blame emotional disturbance, she was just mean.

Anyway, the older woman stayed near my car with my kids while the mean lady and I tried to catch the hurt cat. He ran - very quickly - away from us, but we could see that his eye and nose were bleeding and his walk wasn't quite straight.

We tried again but I had to go, I couldn't chase the cat through Hebron, as much as I would have loved to, I had the kids in the car and a gymnastics class to get to. The sad lady had to get to work. As it turns out, she had picked up this extra shift to make up for hours she had to give up to take care of her husband after his stroke. Yes, I cried.

The mean lady and I agreed that the cat was too scared of us and we would only chase it farther away so I called Animal Control to report the accident in case the owners called looking for their lost cat and Meanie said she'd keep an eye out for the cat in case it came back or slowed down enough to be caught.
Obviously, Mean Lady had the cat's best interests at heart and I appreciate that but she was very cold to the Nice Lady and that is the part that I cannot put out of my head. The way that old lady stuttered and tried to explain herself...
I hugged her and told her she should worry about herself and her husband, the cat would be fine, it's just a cat, she has bigger things to worry about. But it ruined her already bad day. And I am just trying to feel better about her.

The cat is either fine or coyote-food. I hate that some owner somewhere might always wonder what ever happened to their beloved kitty, but - and some of you may be surprised by this - I hate MORE that a nice old woman's heart broke a little bit today and another woman did nothing to heal it.

Yes, I am sadder for the people than the cat. I'll give you a moment to let that sink in.

Want to hear a funny part of that story?
I told you, the older woman stayed by my car with the kids still strapped in. I had turned it off, windows cracked, doors locked but apparently the woman was talking to Abby through the open window. I was chasing the cat around the back of this house so I didn't see any of this but as Abby expalined it to me, "Mama - that lady was trying to talk to me. She was saying stuff to me and Wyatt in the window. But I acted shy. I didn't even know her name!"
So, I guess she understands "Don't Talk to Strangers".

So, the dogs are trained on the Invisible Fence. I was against it at first, like when it was just becoming popular and everyone was doing it... I thought it was mean. And since we had a small, fenced in backyard, it never came up. But when we moved into 131 it became a necessity. No way we were fencing 5.25 acres. And there is not a clear cut front, back and side so no good way to disect it for a wooden fence. We went for it and, ling story short, it worked beautifully.
It is worth mentioning that before I would allow my dogs (my BABIES at the time, before I had actually grown Wyatt & Abigail) to wear a SHOCK COLLAR, I asked Jay to feel the shock. He was a good sport, he gripped that metal portion of the collar and put his hand right through the perimeter. He said, not to be trite, that is shocked him. But he didn't twitch or cry, so I figured the dogs would be ok.
Again - long story short - the dogs are well trained and very happy to have so much room to paly and shit.
So, the other day, I was mulching the side garden next to thepond when I heard beeping. I turned around to see Pete's collar, which beeps before it shocks, as a warning to the dog that he is too close to the perimeter. So, there's Pete's collar... on WYATT's HEAD.
Wyatt was wearing Pete's Invisible Fence Collar on his HEAD like a freaking CROWN.
And it was BEEPING.

So, I grabbed it and the moment I did, it shocked. I think I got the brunt of it but he definitely felt it. The look on his sweet, fat little face said "FUCKING SHIT, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, MA!?!?!"
He cried.
For about 4 seconds, then he was on to the next thing.
That is the kind of story that will go with him forever.
"Why yes, I did once wear the dog's collar as a crown and bear the shock of the fence. It's cool. I'm tough."