"...That's why this kitty....is a tramp..."

After 5 days in Maputo for regional meetings, I was eager to get back home to my own lumpy bed and spend some overdue time with my pets. I had gotten a text from my neighbour who is watching the kids for me while I was away, saying that “Gato tem bebes.” I was hoping that maybe I misunderstood the word “bebes” and that it was actually a derivative from the verb Bebir, to drink. Maybe my cat was drunk and my neighbour felt the need to inform me. But sadly, our Portuguese skills are both decent and I arrived home to three kittens huddled in my kitchen. How could this happen?? When did Sammy get preggers? My cat is only a year and a half old! She’s too young to have kids! How could I have raised a cat that turns out to be a teenage mother? And where is the father in all this? I felt so hurt, like a dad realizing that his sweet little daughter who made the honor roll last semester is really stripping down at the Eager Beaver to make some extra money to pay for her boyfriend’s smack habit. You thought you recognized her the last time you were there with the boys from work, but she ducked behind the curtain so fast that you just convinced yourself you were being paranoid. Next thing you know you’re finding singles everywhere and her clothes smell like gin and Fanta. Ugh, anyways…

To top it off, she has the maternal instincts of Britney Spears. I’d be less surprised if she left a can of formula on the stove and took a weekend trip to Vegas thinking the kids would be alright on their own for a little bit. I woke up the other night and found that she had put one of her kittens in a random box in my room and left her. SHE LEFT A DUMPSTER KITTY! She is constantly abandoning the kittens to go sleep in her regular spot in my room, to which I have to bring her back and remind her of her motherly duties. As soon as the kittens start whining to be fed, she looks up at me as if to say, “I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.” This is all in addition to her still leaving the house each night, I’m sure to get knocked up again. I figure she is out clubbing, trying to score free drinks from older, more desperate male cats. But things are getting better. She is sleeping with the kittens through the night and they are whining a lot less (correlation? I think so.) At night we still play house, but now it has a more realistic edge. She saunters in after being out all evening, and I look up from my book and shout, “You’re a whore….just like your mother!” Then I throw my glass of scotch at the wall beside her and she runs crying into the other room. Well, the glass is plastic and the drink is mango juice, so it doesn’t have quite the desired effect but she still plays along.

Chissy is still my sweet little puppy girl. She would never whore around like her big sister. Sweet Chissy…..Sweet, Innocent Chissy….

Interesting Article...

http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/newsdesk/L1236638.htm

Thanks to Mr Key for sending it to me. Sadly, this problem is only exacerbated when some teachers engage in transactional sex with students for grades. Not an uncommon problem.