Thursday, July 28, 2005

Taking the country out of the girl...

I've always secretly prided myself in having at some resemblance of country girl sensibilities. I spent my summers on a farm as a kid, I've driven a tractor, have bailed hay, learned to swim in a creek, can squash a spider with nothing but a tissue, always feel at home in an old F-150, and can bait my own my fishing line. While my primary residence for the past 20 years of my life has been in an urban or subarban region, I have always quietly assumed my mother's love for the country and the countless week's I've spent on the farm's of both of my grandparents surely had to entitle me to at least an honorary "country girl" license. gag was up! All licenses, honorary or otherwise, had to have been immediately revoked when I came squealing back into the house when my supposed peace loving Lucy (cat) greeted me at the back door with a limp, although still squirming, mouse in her mouth. The multi-talented kitty could even meow to get my attention without dropping the rodent from her teeth. To even recall this event, makes my skin crawl. I ran back inside and called Pat to inform him that we had a "family emergency" that his boss would certainly have to be sympathetic to. He needed to come home immediately to remove the mouse so I could get in my car. While I'm apprising Pat of the situation at hand, Lucy is proceeding to beat the mouse against the porch. She also batted it around like she does with the toy mice that she has in the house, causing me to blame no one but myself for this learned behavior.

After Pat convinced me that I might be able to leave via the front door and make a wide sweep into the neighbor's portion of the driveway in order to avoid the scene of Lucy's crime against nature, I proceeded with caution. "But lord help me if that cat tries to approach me with that battered little creature" I proclaimed. Unable to avoid looking as I swung wide into the driveway with E in hand, I saw Lucy cleaning that mouse like it was fried chicken. Ewww! I proceeded to put E in the car seat via the passenger side, and YES --- I climbed over the console into the driver's seat in order to avoid having to use the driver's door that was right next to the feasting feline.

Country Girl -- I am not!

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