Cat In Heat

Nothing says summer like a heat wave.  Yesterday's temperature brought a record-breaking 108 degrees and we face similar triple digit threats today and perhaps through early next week.  Up until now, I had successfully exiled our new cat (which I am allergic to) to the back deck.  When my wife came home and found the cat, which my son decided to name Sparky, panting outside, she decided to
bring it indoors.  The only thing I hate worse than a cat is a cat in heat, but the heat may be a safer place for this feline.

My daughter loves this cat; loves it to death. And if Sparky stays inside much longer, death will be right around the corner.  Unfortunately for the cat, the only pet my daughter has ever had is our 68 pound Labrador; the same lab she rides like a pony.  So when it comes time to play with the kitty, she can get a little rough.

I'm gonna hug you and kiss you and love you forever.

Like, Elmyra rough.

I didn't mean no harm George.

Or, Lennie stroking a puppy rough.

At least when Sparky was outside, we could bring Leah indoors to give the cat a break.  I recall one day that Sparky took a four limbed leap off of our second story deck to the welcoming freedom of earth below.  I now believe it was an attempt to get away from our daughter.  Little two-pound, no-body-fat Sparky would rather risk broken bones and almost certain death than have to be squeezed, swaddled, and man-handled by a little three year old girl.

Much to the chagrin of our cat, she survived her suicide swan-dive and is now back in the loving arms of my daughter.  The loving, powerful, bone-crushing arms of my sweet princess.  Every now and then she manages to wiggle free and make a mad dash to the safety found under the bed.  I've never seen monsters under the bed, but I've certainly seen one trying to poke at a cat that's under the bed.

108 degrees?  No problem.  She's safer outside with the heat.