Oh yes. Lucy could really pull a bender on you...weeks of destruction and havoc. Waiting for you to go to sleep before running wildly through the house and meowing. Letting you chase her into the dark because at least you would be unhappy with her. And occasionally attacking you while in deep sleep.
She would warn you like a shark does by bumping your feet as you float on the crest. Except Lucy would run across your body over the covers full tilt so there wouldn't be a mistake in her request or angst.
I some nights I would have to put Lucy in a carrier just to keep her from terrorizing us. And some nights we just let it go.
Finally, we moved out to the coutry side where Lucy was free to stay outside. And very little did we let her in. Since she had started to corrupt the new cats we had gotten to try an equalize our household. Fearless Lucy still kept it unreal for our day to days. I remember our neighbor coming over one time with two big ass barking dogs and wanted to go for a walk. He stood in the entryway with the dogs and Lucy came runnning through the house and confronted the slobbering beasts. They pulled at their chains and barked like mad. Lucy got even closer to them and proceeded to take swips at their face. No one could believe it. Not even the dogs.
Lucy started to single her opressors out. When I would do something to her in any way punishing she would get retribution on my person. Her first foray into smart bombing came when i started spraying her with a water bottle to stop heinous activities like attacking guests or tearing up furniture. She went into my clothes hamper and pissed all over my clothes...not Dawn's..mine.
And then one night I had to lock her in the spare bedroom as she was getting out of hand. Throughout the night I could hear her mournful meows...and in the morning i let her out. running through the house and bitching about everything as she made her rounds. A few minutes later I went into the spare bedroom and looked at my art tablet with all my sketches on the desk. The paper was all curled and the most foul odor emminated from the paper. It was yellowed...ah yes, she had pissed on my artwork.
Touche!
We decided to try and get rid of her as soon as possible and put an ad in the paper. People would call and never come over once they heard her age. Then one day a mother and her daughter came by to visit Lucy and see what she was all about. They sat on the floor and the little girl held out her hand to a curious and somewhat friendly Lucy. We were standing over them watching with surprise and delight as the minutes whittled away and Lucy started loving on the little girl. In her lap Lucy purred and rubbed. Sweet as a peach.
The mom looked at us as if we had provided the answer to Christmas. All was well with the world. The little girl leaned down to kiss Lucy in her upturned face. Lucy sweetly and quickly bite the living shit out of her cheek. The little girl screamed and jumped up with a little blood coming from the puncture wound.
Lucy had foiled our plans! She knew what they had come for...and she knew how to make it stick that we weren't rid of her yet.
That bitch ass cat!
Monday, April 30, 2012
The Night They Drove ol' Lucy Down
That cat could learn quick!
Man alive. Could she...When I'd put on my uniform she'd disappear no matter what room you saw her last in. Deftly darting from furniture to shadow. And there she would wait for my exit from the front door. Sometimes I wouldn't know which way she would be coming.
We didn't want her out because we lived near a road and the citizens get paid for crow's feet and stray cat's tails. And when we moved on base the cops were called on animals that roamed.
But.
This was Lucy. And what Lucy wants, Lucy gets.
After a few weeks of getting out successfully Dawn and I kicked in Operation "Deny Freedom". But, the retribution was just as severe.
Lucy began to attack me and Dawn by luring us in with purrs and rolling around in our laps. Her tactic was very sweet. Up into the lap lolling against the stomach with little purrs. Back and forth across the legs and lifting her face into yours. Sometimes even rubbing her nose against yours. Oh man...it was good. And just when you would be so into it with your eyes closed and just almost laughing at the fuzzy goodness she would bite right into your nose. And I don't mean like a Jaws flesh bite across the bridge. I mean she would sink her teeth into your nostrils at the right point where if you pull back her teeth catch under the edge of your nose. Ouch!
OUCH DAMNIT!
Man, I hated that. And for some reason I never learned.
Oh but that wasn't the most sinister of all her crimes against us during this phase.
This one day while I was at work and Dawn was doing her thang in the apartment. Dawn heared Lucy somewhere in the livingroom let out a loud meow. Out from the office she came to see Lucy standing on the back of the loveseat perched next to the door. Eyes locked in. Demands being made with a stare down.
I forgot to mention recently we had moved our loveseat right next to the front door with this gorgeous clay floor lamp. Cream with a stucco looking finish.
Dawn said "Luuucccyyy" with that sound you give to warn your child a whoopin is eminent.
"MEooowwwW." Lucy warned back. Turning toward the lamp putting her paws against the side, up on her hindlegs.
Dawn said "Lucy!" with shock and proceeded to walk towards the couch for a little "Obey they master!" smack down. But, before Dawn got very far at all Lucy pushed up and rocked the lamp. She pushed harder and thar she blew! right on the tile.
I don't remember what terrible things Dawn did next but by the time I got home the living room looked like the bottom of a pan full of sauce. Pieces of fur and gore all over the couch and floor. I even saw her head. Severed off with a giant piece of a lamp shard.
Well, that's what I was thinking anyway when I walked in the door to see the aftermath looking like a giant cookie, broken pieces all over the places.
That cat was straight up wrong.
Man alive. Could she...When I'd put on my uniform she'd disappear no matter what room you saw her last in. Deftly darting from furniture to shadow. And there she would wait for my exit from the front door. Sometimes I wouldn't know which way she would be coming.
We didn't want her out because we lived near a road and the citizens get paid for crow's feet and stray cat's tails. And when we moved on base the cops were called on animals that roamed.
But.
This was Lucy. And what Lucy wants, Lucy gets.
After a few weeks of getting out successfully Dawn and I kicked in Operation "Deny Freedom". But, the retribution was just as severe.
Lucy began to attack me and Dawn by luring us in with purrs and rolling around in our laps. Her tactic was very sweet. Up into the lap lolling against the stomach with little purrs. Back and forth across the legs and lifting her face into yours. Sometimes even rubbing her nose against yours. Oh man...it was good. And just when you would be so into it with your eyes closed and just almost laughing at the fuzzy goodness she would bite right into your nose. And I don't mean like a Jaws flesh bite across the bridge. I mean she would sink her teeth into your nostrils at the right point where if you pull back her teeth catch under the edge of your nose. Ouch!
OUCH DAMNIT!
Man, I hated that. And for some reason I never learned.
Oh but that wasn't the most sinister of all her crimes against us during this phase.
This one day while I was at work and Dawn was doing her thang in the apartment. Dawn heared Lucy somewhere in the livingroom let out a loud meow. Out from the office she came to see Lucy standing on the back of the loveseat perched next to the door. Eyes locked in. Demands being made with a stare down.
I forgot to mention recently we had moved our loveseat right next to the front door with this gorgeous clay floor lamp. Cream with a stucco looking finish.
Dawn said "Luuucccyyy" with that sound you give to warn your child a whoopin is eminent.
"MEooowwwW." Lucy warned back. Turning toward the lamp putting her paws against the side, up on her hindlegs.
Dawn said "Lucy!" with shock and proceeded to walk towards the couch for a little "Obey they master!" smack down. But, before Dawn got very far at all Lucy pushed up and rocked the lamp. She pushed harder and thar she blew! right on the tile.
I don't remember what terrible things Dawn did next but by the time I got home the living room looked like the bottom of a pan full of sauce. Pieces of fur and gore all over the couch and floor. I even saw her head. Severed off with a giant piece of a lamp shard.
Well, that's what I was thinking anyway when I walked in the door to see the aftermath looking like a giant cookie, broken pieces all over the places.
That cat was straight up wrong.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Lucy Fur
In the late 90's my ex and I lived in northern Japan. We were young lovers all alone in that strange and wonderful part of the world. She didn't have a job and was left to herself in the house we had in downtown Misawa-shi near the train station. After a few months of all the solitude we both agreed that something warm and fuzzy needed to be added to our lives while I was toiling away at the bomb dump.
I mentioned to a friend of mine what we had decided and that a cat was our goal. He said that another bomb guy's wife ran the animal shelter on base and that I should talk to him about getting a good cat. So, I went over to this guy's office to see what he could do. As soon as I mentioned that we wanted a cat he picked up the phone and called his wife. After a short but animated discussion he said that tomorrow his wife would have something for us.
The next day we went to the shelter and met the lady who already had the cat with her in the main area. And oh what a cat. Such a colorization! Whites blending into browns and blacks that seemed almost painted on. A siamese cat. More precisely a Snowshoe Siamese.
The cat warmed right up to us and begged for attention. With her natural beauty and immediate interest in us we took her without much discussion. Homeward we went. Once there Lucy, so we had named her during the drive, took off through the apartment exploring and claiming her new territory. Meowing around corners and running up and down stairs.
After a day or two Lucy started to show her true colors.
One afternoon I was sitting downstairs watching TV and the ex was out shopping. I heard Lucy crying upstairs. I thought maybe she had gotten shut in a room or something and so up I went and walked around the corner to the staircase. As soon as I rounded the corner and put my foot on the staircase I saw Lucy flattened against a step about halfway up the flight looking right at me. The second I made eye contact she leaped from her spot right at my face. I screamed and flailed my arms simultaneously tripping backwards. The corner of the door frame caught me square on my spine and I bumped my head. Lucy barely missed me and hit the floor running. For a second or two I was still scared and then I was pissed. I wanted to kill her. Then I thought about what just happened and I laughed my ass off. When the ex came home shortly after I told her what Lucy did and warned about walking around the corner without peeking first to make sure she wasn't positioned for attack on a step.
A few more days went by and new personality traits started appearing along with the ambush technique.
Our living room was japanese style with a low, low table and pillows surrounding. When we would sit at the table our legs would stretch out underneath and were usually covered with a blanket in the traditional style. And like most people you move your feet here and there or adjust your position regularly. Lucy could not resist the temptation to creep into the room and underneath the table. Then with the energy usually reserved for capturing prey she would latch onto our feet with claws extended and begin the biting and hissing. The pain would be fierce and seemingly coming from all directions. The claws...the fangs...the knees banging the table.
Soon we had to start taking swings at her to keep her from coming close to our feet and legs when we sat at the table.
After ten days of living with the new hell beast we decided that our home was not the right place for Lucy Fur (our new moniker for her).
We returned to the animal shelter to tell the lady what Lucy had done and why we couldnt keep her only to be rebutted by the shelter manager. The lady said that we had Lucy over the time limit and that we couldnt return her now. There was a nine day trial period for owners and their pets! Yeah, I didn't know there was even a trial period. Come on...this is an animal not a VCR.
Oh well. We retreated to our abode to begin life anew with the evil one.
I mentioned to a friend of mine what we had decided and that a cat was our goal. He said that another bomb guy's wife ran the animal shelter on base and that I should talk to him about getting a good cat. So, I went over to this guy's office to see what he could do. As soon as I mentioned that we wanted a cat he picked up the phone and called his wife. After a short but animated discussion he said that tomorrow his wife would have something for us.
The next day we went to the shelter and met the lady who already had the cat with her in the main area. And oh what a cat. Such a colorization! Whites blending into browns and blacks that seemed almost painted on. A siamese cat. More precisely a Snowshoe Siamese.
The cat warmed right up to us and begged for attention. With her natural beauty and immediate interest in us we took her without much discussion. Homeward we went. Once there Lucy, so we had named her during the drive, took off through the apartment exploring and claiming her new territory. Meowing around corners and running up and down stairs.
After a day or two Lucy started to show her true colors.
One afternoon I was sitting downstairs watching TV and the ex was out shopping. I heard Lucy crying upstairs. I thought maybe she had gotten shut in a room or something and so up I went and walked around the corner to the staircase. As soon as I rounded the corner and put my foot on the staircase I saw Lucy flattened against a step about halfway up the flight looking right at me. The second I made eye contact she leaped from her spot right at my face. I screamed and flailed my arms simultaneously tripping backwards. The corner of the door frame caught me square on my spine and I bumped my head. Lucy barely missed me and hit the floor running. For a second or two I was still scared and then I was pissed. I wanted to kill her. Then I thought about what just happened and I laughed my ass off. When the ex came home shortly after I told her what Lucy did and warned about walking around the corner without peeking first to make sure she wasn't positioned for attack on a step.
A few more days went by and new personality traits started appearing along with the ambush technique.
Our living room was japanese style with a low, low table and pillows surrounding. When we would sit at the table our legs would stretch out underneath and were usually covered with a blanket in the traditional style. And like most people you move your feet here and there or adjust your position regularly. Lucy could not resist the temptation to creep into the room and underneath the table. Then with the energy usually reserved for capturing prey she would latch onto our feet with claws extended and begin the biting and hissing. The pain would be fierce and seemingly coming from all directions. The claws...the fangs...the knees banging the table.
Soon we had to start taking swings at her to keep her from coming close to our feet and legs when we sat at the table.
After ten days of living with the new hell beast we decided that our home was not the right place for Lucy Fur (our new moniker for her).
We returned to the animal shelter to tell the lady what Lucy had done and why we couldnt keep her only to be rebutted by the shelter manager. The lady said that we had Lucy over the time limit and that we couldnt return her now. There was a nine day trial period for owners and their pets! Yeah, I didn't know there was even a trial period. Come on...this is an animal not a VCR.
Oh well. We retreated to our abode to begin life anew with the evil one.
God Suffer the Little Children
it has been so nice and sunny these last few days here in michigan. so, feeling free to walk the earth with unprotected feet and skin i venture out the door with little zander in the front carrier. we start walking the sidewalks of my neighborhood. he is kicking at my balls as i meander through the blue skies and clicking sprayers on lawns. we round a corner and hear a little dog barking in protest at our imminent arrival. when down the street a little girl chugs on her bicycle towards us. she stops short of our progress up the sidewalk to pet the yelping dog behind the fence. we near her and she picks her bike up from the sidewalk so we could pass, i presumed. with her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail she smiles at the two of us and mounts her bike.
she looks at me in the face and says "we just came from the park.." and i dart my eyes up the street to see if there were in fact anyone else coming...and sure enough two more girls were messing around in the distance, she continued, "...but we left.".
she was calm and easy going, like she knew me presonally. it was almost like she road her bike down her to tell good ol' Uncle Shane about their day in the park.
and i said "oh good, nice out here huh?" and she nodded and finished mounting her bike and was ready to ride off again.
almost as an afterthough she looked back and said "we left because they were burning statues." hmmm. "oh?" i said. "what kind of statues?"
"they're burning god."
"ah. well..."
and off she went.
and i started walking towards the park.
this was something i must see.
she looks at me in the face and says "we just came from the park.." and i dart my eyes up the street to see if there were in fact anyone else coming...and sure enough two more girls were messing around in the distance, she continued, "...but we left.".
she was calm and easy going, like she knew me presonally. it was almost like she road her bike down her to tell good ol' Uncle Shane about their day in the park.
and i said "oh good, nice out here huh?" and she nodded and finished mounting her bike and was ready to ride off again.
almost as an afterthough she looked back and said "we left because they were burning statues." hmmm. "oh?" i said. "what kind of statues?"
"they're burning god."
"ah. well..."
and off she went.
and i started walking towards the park.
this was something i must see.
Gotta know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em...
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
Unfortunately, when you're in the teens you just plain don't know, or give a shit. and that's how I came to hold the same job seven times.
I started working at McDonald's when I was 16. This wasn't my first job, nor was it my first entry in to the food industry. Anyway, it was one of the busiest McD's in America at the time due to being built right on a huge naval training station. The job was back breaking, and as you can imagine, turnaround was high.
Then here I come, a fast learner and willing to do any task no matter how nasty or hard. Ready to bend elbow to push any boulder, but I also liked to get drunk with my trailer park friends and call in to work once or twice...a night. Sometimes I would call in sick when I was scheduled and other nights because I thought I was supposed to work and called in to lie anyway. This caused quite a bit of stress for the management.
The first time I got fired was for a no-call no-show on a Thursday and Friday. The shift manager was pissed and didn't want to hear about my food poisoning (lie) so I was let go. That sunday I showed back up at work to order some food and act all sad because I wanted my job back. So, a few Mcnuggets and lies later I was back on the schedule. Things were pretty smooth for about a month and then I quit because of a desire to free up some time to get some more relaxation (see, drinking). I stayed in "quit" status for about a week before calling back up to see if they needed anybody, and of course they did. One problem though, the manager that hired me back didn't tell the other manager that she had reinstated me and the next day the clueless manager came in to see me in the back hanging out waiting to clock in. Ready for a fight he asked me into the office to berate me like the miserable middle-aged bastard that he was and fire me again. As he said over and over "I wasn't McD's material".
The third termination lasted about two weeks during which time I decided to grow out this mexi-cali style mustache and get all "edgy". It was with this new look that I got my job back for no good reason and quit a month later in a display of pride as I hung out with my buds in the lobby of the McD's while on the clock. The manager had come around the counter like he was going to break up a fight and stood right behind me and asked "Are you going to get back to work Shane, or should I clock you out?". I turned to face him smiling as wicked as a pumpkin and replied "No, I can do it. I have to get my stuff anyway." which made my friends start laughing and hooting like the bunch of teenage morons they were. I went in back grabbed my stuff and once again put my timecard on the manager's desk and walked out.
Only a month later my job was reinstated allowing me to work with the new hot girl, who I promptly started to date. About two months later I got dumped which set me off on a drinking spree that summarily got me fired. Companies have a problem with employees coming in drunk...noticably, as I learned.
Let me ask you though, how much conversin' is expected of the guy on the big mac station?
Tight-wads.
Anyway, this brought my hire/fire number to seven. Both managers were sick of my lack of work ethic, and not-all-the-time-funny outbursts, so I was finally really let go. Not even my skills making the new personal pizzas they offered which required me to go through a three day training course with a graduate from "Burger U" could save me.
Ultimately, I ended my almost two year long employment with the golden arches.
May they be damned!
Unfortunately, when you're in the teens you just plain don't know, or give a shit. and that's how I came to hold the same job seven times.
I started working at McDonald's when I was 16. This wasn't my first job, nor was it my first entry in to the food industry. Anyway, it was one of the busiest McD's in America at the time due to being built right on a huge naval training station. The job was back breaking, and as you can imagine, turnaround was high.
Then here I come, a fast learner and willing to do any task no matter how nasty or hard. Ready to bend elbow to push any boulder, but I also liked to get drunk with my trailer park friends and call in to work once or twice...a night. Sometimes I would call in sick when I was scheduled and other nights because I thought I was supposed to work and called in to lie anyway. This caused quite a bit of stress for the management.
The first time I got fired was for a no-call no-show on a Thursday and Friday. The shift manager was pissed and didn't want to hear about my food poisoning (lie) so I was let go. That sunday I showed back up at work to order some food and act all sad because I wanted my job back. So, a few Mcnuggets and lies later I was back on the schedule. Things were pretty smooth for about a month and then I quit because of a desire to free up some time to get some more relaxation (see, drinking). I stayed in "quit" status for about a week before calling back up to see if they needed anybody, and of course they did. One problem though, the manager that hired me back didn't tell the other manager that she had reinstated me and the next day the clueless manager came in to see me in the back hanging out waiting to clock in. Ready for a fight he asked me into the office to berate me like the miserable middle-aged bastard that he was and fire me again. As he said over and over "I wasn't McD's material".
The third termination lasted about two weeks during which time I decided to grow out this mexi-cali style mustache and get all "edgy". It was with this new look that I got my job back for no good reason and quit a month later in a display of pride as I hung out with my buds in the lobby of the McD's while on the clock. The manager had come around the counter like he was going to break up a fight and stood right behind me and asked "Are you going to get back to work Shane, or should I clock you out?". I turned to face him smiling as wicked as a pumpkin and replied "No, I can do it. I have to get my stuff anyway." which made my friends start laughing and hooting like the bunch of teenage morons they were. I went in back grabbed my stuff and once again put my timecard on the manager's desk and walked out.
Only a month later my job was reinstated allowing me to work with the new hot girl, who I promptly started to date. About two months later I got dumped which set me off on a drinking spree that summarily got me fired. Companies have a problem with employees coming in drunk...noticably, as I learned.
Let me ask you though, how much conversin' is expected of the guy on the big mac station?
Tight-wads.
Anyway, this brought my hire/fire number to seven. Both managers were sick of my lack of work ethic, and not-all-the-time-funny outbursts, so I was finally really let go. Not even my skills making the new personal pizzas they offered which required me to go through a three day training course with a graduate from "Burger U" could save me.
Ultimately, I ended my almost two year long employment with the golden arches.
May they be damned!
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