So, I had a scare yesterday and realized something about myself. I become completely hysterical and irrational when one of my children get hurt.
Chandler was toddling around the house as I was straightening up. All was well as we were getting ready to go pick Avery up from school. All of the sudden, I hear Chandler scream. You know the kind of scream when you KNOW a kid is hurt. I run into the other room and he was doubled over. Bleeding. I immediately panic and pick him up. I see 4 puncture wounds in his face. Holes. Starting to puff up and bruise. You would freak out too right?
I immediately scan the floor where he was crumpled up. Had he fallen on something? Did he have something in his hand? The only thing I could see was a plastic cup. I could not figure it out. I was convinced he had been impaled in his FACE by some 4 pronged object that my mind could not place.
I call my husband. Crying and acting like a lunatic.
In a rush of words all strung together, “We are having an emergency you need to come home Chandler is hurt and bleeding and I don’t know if he fell on something or if there is something in his face that I can’t see. He has four holes in his face!!! Oh my gosh. I don’t know what to do and I have to walk all the kids home from school today in a few minutes and oh my gosh, he’s hurt and I’m so scared!!!!” I bet every husband in the world loves getting THAT phone call.
Luckily, my husband is a calm, rational human being. Unlike me. I have always told him he should have gone into emergency medicine, because this man does not freak out about anything. He is always calm and cool under pressure. Ummm. Not like me.
As he is trying to calm me down and tell me to get my shoes on and take him to the instacare down the street, and can I drive safely that far? and he will take care of making sure kids get home, etc. etc. It hits me.
She comes waltzing around the corner without a care in the world, and I instantly want to murder her. Like I have wanted to a hundred times before.
“Wait, wait, wait.” I say. “I bet the cat bit him. But, it can’t be. It looks so bad. But, that makes more sense. OK. I’m calming down now”
After a few deep breaths, hubby is thankful our son didn’t get impaled (as am I) and my 4 year old is now yelling at the cat. I can finally think logically.
We clean the wound, give him some ibruprofen and his much deserved pacifier. Finally, the whimpering stops, and he is calming down too.
I tell my husband over the phone. “It might be time to get rid of her”.
Chandler is not the first victim. She has bitten all of us. She is 5 years old and has the capabilities of being what looks like a “normal” cat. Yet, she has an evil side. She has given me a similar wound when I was merely walking down the sidewalk and she jumped out and bit me severely on the leg. It took a couple of months to heal completely. And, my Dad had to get on antibiotics once because of one of her bites. And both of my other children have been attacked unprovoked. And my husband. While I wasn’t in the room and he COULD have been doing something to her. I doubt it. She is just down right mean sometimes. And frequently attacks unprovoked. I swear she is bipolar.
I told my oldest that we might have to think about getting rid of her and she burst into tears. And, just a few hours after being horribly attacked, Chandler was laughing and pointing at the kitty again. He loves her.
This cat has caused me so much heartache. Like the time I ran over her. Or the other countless stupid things she’s done. She’s been hanging at the top of our garage door STUCK, and kicked across the room as she bites us. Why do we love this crazy creature? WHY?
I feel so torn about what to do because if she is doing this to my babies, I can’t help but dislike her. Like, a lot.
And, why can’t I just handle something calmly? What am I going to do the day one of my children really does get hurt severely like a broken bone or something?
This cat is making me go gray more than my kids are.
I’m opposed to taking her to a shelter. I think it’s cruel after being with us since she was a baby. But, I do wonder if maybe she needs a new home. Where she can just run around hunting mice and other small animals all day. At least, she’s good for that. Now my poor baby has to suffer in pain (I can tell it really hurts) and be on antibiotics for a week. Ugh. So much for those cute easter pictures I was going to take.