Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Molly the Kitten Killing Dog (Graham made me do it Mom)

This may look like a picture of a happy family with their beloved pet.  It's not.  This is a picture of a happy family with a dog named Molly that really only liked my mom, sometimes my dad if my mom wasn't around. Let me say first that I am not a dog hater.  I am pretty sure that Graham and I begged to get Molly.  She was born in the house next door on 25th street.  Mom assisted at the birth. She was so cute and cuddly and we couldn't wait for her to be old enough to come live at our house.  I am sure that once the newness wore off Graham and I did not want the responsibility of a dog.  We totally lost interest in her so her care fell on my mom.  What we didn't know is that cocker spaniels tend to get very attached to one person and just seem neurotic to everybody else.  Around this same time I found a stray ginger kitten that I was able to keep.  I named her Lucy.  Lucy wasn't really the smartest cat, but she was sweet and I loved her. Even better, she would actually use the litter box and didn't scratch the furniture so she didn't have to go live at the "cat farm" like some of my other kittens.  - There is another story here, but let's just say if things became undesirable at our house they just disappeared.  Cats went to the "cat farm" and dad's old clothes that he refused to throw away got picked up by the "bag lady".   Graham went to "camp" ( just kidding Graham you weren't really undesirable most of the time).

Anyway, when we moved to Tennessee Molly and Lucy went with us.  When we crossed the Mason Dixon line hormones started kicking in.  First it was Graham, the fresh meat at Vance Middle School, and then it was Lucy.  She had always been an inside cat in Ohio, but the fresh mountain air and big yard allowed her to be an outdoor cat in Tennessee.  She was the new hot thing in Bellebrook and soon she was pregnant.  Not a planned pregnancy, but we were excited none the less.  She had a litter of 4 or 5 kittens.  My friends and I watched them grow to be cute little furballs.  One day we were sitting around and decided to name the kittens.  The only name I remember was J**** S***** ( name blacked out to protect the stupid)  We named this particular boy kitten after this particularly obnoxious meathead at school.  He had the mullet with spiky on top, shaved on the sides and long in the back  ( is this a Mullhawk?).

This fine specimen would stand in the main hallway at Tennessee High with his obnoxious friends bullying me and all my friends.  I saw him knock kids into lockers and I think I would throw up a little in my mouth every time I saw him.  One day he knocked into me and I sarcastically said back to him "Excuse you!!!!"  He walked a few steps away, probably more than a few because it would take him a while to come up with a comeback.  He yelled back" YO MEG... SUCK B***" Need I say more.  What a perfect name for the kitten that bullied his siblings, pushing them out of the way and walking all over them.  

One evening we were cleaning up after dinner. The kittens were wandering around and Molly was spastic because there was food around.  J**** S***** ventured a little too close to the food dish and the fierce animal attacked.   She had him in her mouth and wouldn't let go.  Needless to say I lost it.  Who knew a smelly black cocker could have such a taste for blood.  She whipped him all around and dropped him on the kitchen floor to flop back and forth until he died.  I didn't know what to think.  Was this divine intervention getting back at J**** S***** for being such a bully?  Or was it the dog who hated me killing one of my kittens that I loved to show me who was boss?  I know, I know, it was just a dog acting naturally protecting it's food source.  Whatever!!!!  I never could fully forgive Molly.  Even when she grew tumors all over her body and looked like a cocker with elephant-its.  Even when the tumors  in her ears would get infections that smelled so bad you couldn't be in the same room with her.  Even when my parents nursed her back from kidney shutdown with peanut butter crackers. Ok- maybe I did forgive her when they finally put her to sleep.  But I only did it when I saw how much my mom loved that lumpy, smelly kitten killer.  When Molly died she took a little piece of my mom with her.  Mom swore she'd never get another cocker, but a few years later came Lady, another black cocker.   She was neurotic of course, but never did hit the level of crazy that Molly did.  Now my parents have Max, a multi colored cocker mix who is probably one of the greatest dogs I have ever met.  He completes their family and if you call their house you will get the message that Greg, Kate and Max are not in.  

You may ask whatever happened to mullet man?  I see him from time to time in his police cruiser.  His son and my son were briefly friends (awkward) but luckily I only had to speak with his mom to arrange sleepovers. Hopefully he won't figure out that I named a martyred kitten after him, pull me over for speeding and say Yo Meg... Here's your ticket.

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