When we got married my wife had a cat named Trubble. This cat was the grouchiest thing ever, and she hated me. I couldn't sleep naked just because that furball would crawl under the blankets and bite me in places I only offered one other person nibbling privileges. She liked my dog; she never did warm up to me.

After she died several years back, I thought we would be a cat free house. We had a dog, Stoner, and he was terrific with the kids and they never seemed to want another cat. But then one day they brought home these two puffs of hair...for me. A complelte non-cat person and they gave me kittens for my birthday (or it might have been father's day, I don't rememeber. Probably blocking it out of my head.)

I named them Dingleberry and Fleabag, but those were only transient names. To be honest, those cats were probably confused as hell because they were never called the same thing more than twice in a row. When I bothered to talk to one of them it was usually with an sneer.

So it figures that they liked me. I kept waking up with one or both of them curled up on top of me, and nearly every time I sat down they made a beeling for my lap, even though I complained about it and kept picking them up and handing them off to the nearest child.

I'm a dog person. I have Stoner and now Tank, and no need for mouthy little puffballs that hiss at themselves in the mirror.

But yesterday someone left the front door open and Younger Son came screaming through the house that he couldn't find the cats. We live in a heavily wooded area, with enough scary wildlife that two indoor cats don't stand a chance. And these are small cats. Neither of them have gotten bigger than 6 pounds. My son was frantic and crying because he knows they probably wouldn't last a night outside and knows they would be someone's snack right around nightfall.

He stayed inside with his sister and mother to look for the cats while Elder Son and I started combing around the house and the garage. We looked for three hours and couldn't find even a remote trail of them, and as it was getting dark, we headed back inside. I did not want to face my little boy. I didn't even like having to face my older son and tell him it was time to give up.

I'm not supposed to give a crap about those cats. But when we couldn't find them and came home to hear that they couldn't find them either, I was more than just a little bit upset. It took a long time to get the younger two into bed last night and a dozen promises that I would look for them again in the morning.

My alarm clock went off a little before five this morning. I started to get ready for work and while I shaved I kept hearing meowing coming from the closet. I opened the closet door carefully so I wouldn't wake my wife, and listened closely, and heard it even louder.

The damn cats had curled up in my boots. My wife had looked in the closet but they didn't answer when called. Probably because after 5 years they don't know their own names. My fault.

The kids are happy now, but I can't get any of them to admit to being the one who left the front door open. It could have ended way differently.

So We'll Try This Again

I haven't exactly been a good blogger in years past. I've been so bad at it that I can't even remember my user name and password to delete the old blog--and that's not the first time that's happened. But, we have family and friends that want to keep track of what our kids are up to, so we're giving it another shot.

People who know me understand that I am intensely private, to the point of being obnoxious about it. You probably won't see any pictures of the kids here, and I might give you a general idea of where we live, but not specifics. This stems from former employment that made being paranoid necessary, and while I no longer do that work, the freaks and weirdos that resulted from it are still out there. Besides, it's just plain fun annoying people with "I don't share that."

What I will share: I've been married to the most incredible woman since 1995 and we have 3 kids. One of them just became a teenager and the other will next year. I suspect life is about to get very interesting.