As promised from my previous blog post, here is a great story about Cerridwyn’s gift of dramatic gab on a day I wished she had a mute button.
There is a sweet older neighborhood cat who is not a stray but lives outside. She likes to come in the house sometimes to visit. She made herself a cat door through the screen on our back porch. She loves my 20 year-old son and the feeling is mutual. I have a homeschool preschool class that at the time had 5 little ones, not including Cerridwyn who is the lone girl in the bunch.
One morning while some students were arriving, the cat (my son calls her Fruit Punch) ran past the kids and into the house. She soon realized that all the attention from children was too much for her and she made a sprint for my son’s bedroom door. Hearing all of the commotion, he opened the door and told me that he would visit with Fruit Punch for a while and then put her out the window so that we could avoid another game of grab the kitty with the little kids.
I went about my morning and about 20 minutes later I heard a terrible noise that I only imagined could be made by ninjas jumping through my son’s window and fighting him. I heard glass breaking and bumping and banging. I heard him yelling “No! No! GET OUT OF HERE! OH MY GOD!”
I was scared out of my mind, but knew I had to investigate. I went to his door and slowly opened it. Inside I found the room in shambles, a cat with a not yet dead chipmunk in its mouth, and my stunned and out of breath son.
I did what any mother would do and quickly shut the door.
I retrieved some rubber gloves from the first aid kit and a broom and dustpan and went back to his door. He opened the door a bit and informed me that the chipmunk was now dead and proceeded to tell me his side of the story:
After petting the cat for a bit he opened his window and the window screen to let the cat outside. He didn’t think to put down the window screen right away and he went about his business. Eventually the cat jumps back in with a live chipmunk in its mouth and proceeds to have a Tom and Jerryesque battle in his room. jumping, chasing, knocking things over, breaking things until unlike the cartoon battles, this one ends in the death of the chipmunk. He agrees to use the glove to pick up the chipmunk and dispose of it. Thank goodness there is no blood or other grossness to clean up. Only the broken items in his room.
I make sure that the kids are distracted so they don’t see dead animal removal. My son comes back in the house and is telling me that he didn’t feel right about taking the cat’s kill away from her so he took the dead animal far away from the house and left it there for her. At this point the kids are playing at the block table which is next to a set of double doors that go out to our back porch. My son and I are just finishing the conversation about the animal removal and he looks up and says “Mom, OH NO!”
All of us, including the small children looked up to see the cat trotting toward the porch with it’s chipmunk in its mouth. It sat right down in front of the glass doors and in one fell swoop, sort of tossed the chipmunk up and in one single bite, I swear in one single bite ate the head cleanly off of the chipmunk. I’ve seen cats lick at wet food like they are having difficulty eating it, but this cat ate the skull of another creature in one freakin bite! And the children cheered, oohed and awed. We had a short discussion about the circle of life and we once again went about our day thinking this was all behind us other than of course the necessity of telling each parent about the carnage their child had witnessed.
A couple of hours later the phone rang. The young woman on the other end of the line says she is a social worker from children’s services and needs to come to my house to interview me and a child about an incident that happened outside my home and had nothing to do with me, but they were investigating an incident and needed to speak with me.
I was making a mad dash to extra hard core clean the house, freak the freak out, and make phone calls as the parents start showing up for pick up. I decide to keep the carnage explanation short and sweet, “I need to let you know that the kids saw a cat kill a chipmunk today. It was pretty gory, so they may talk about it. I’m really sorry they saw it. It happened so fast, I couldn’t keep them from seeing it.” Not bad, right? Enter Cerridwyn:
Yelling, she says “The cat broke into my brother’s room through the window!”
Me: “that’s enough Cerra, it’s okay.”
Cerra: “There was all this noise and Miss Jenny went to check!” (she calls me Miss Jenny during school hours lol)
Me: “Really Cerra, let’s not talk about this right now, they need to get home.” She completely ignores me and continues
Cerra: “Miss Jenny ran down the hall and opened Alex’s door and said ‘HOLY SHIT!’ then slammed the door!”
I covered my face with my hand. I had no memory of saying that but also no doubt that I had done exactly what she reported.
Cerra continues: “Then the cat bit it’s head right off and ate it and left blood everywhere! It’s still on the porch! Wanna see it?”
All I could think of was where I could send her or hide her until the social worker had gone (clearly that would cause me more serious problems lol).
I just shook my head and apologized again and thank goodness everyone continued to trust me with the care of their children, including social services trusting me to care for my own.