Have you ever heard that folk song? I learned it in elementary school. I’ve mentioned before how my sixth grade teacher was a 60s hippy and on Friday afternoons she’d pull out her guitar and teach us folk songs, and this catchy tune was one of them.
There are several versions of this golden oldie that dates back to 1893, and I’ve modified it slightly to fit my current plight.
My parents returned Rosie, the birthday cat yesterday.
I wasn’t kidding when I said Mom was pricing declawing procedures before the wrapping paper hit the floor, and when they took Rosie to the vet on Monday they found she had lice in her ears and a rare gum disease that is a form of herpies and very hard to get rid of.
I gave my dad a dud cat for his birthday.
Luckily, Rosie came with a two week return policy.
Living in the country I can pick up a free kitten or ratty stray on any given day. The whole reason I went through a pet adoption service and spent actual money on an animal form I’m usually trying to get rid of was to get my parents a cat that was already neutered, immunized, etc. to minimize expenses and trouble for them. I had medical documentation that I was trying to be thoughtful, yet I still earned a “Bad Daughter Award.”
When I met my parents at PetSmart with the paperwork for the return I apologized profusely for gifting them a faulty pet.
Mom said, “It’s not your fault, sweetie. Your heart was in the right place, and the fun of watching all the kids and grandkids be so excited to see Grandpa be surprised with a cat for his birthday was gift enough!” i.e., “Don’t get us another cat.”
Our family pet curse continues.