I would like to share just a bit of background
for those of you who have not had the fortune to follow my adventures here in
Deliverance-ville.
On more than one occasion I have shared with you
tales of my misfortunes since moving here back in 2003.
I have always said I was the universes test
dummy, a walking talking example of Murphy’s Laws in action and that if I did
not have bad luck I would not have any luck at all…Oh, and that I am jinxed (or
possessed by some entity with a really sick sense of humor).
No matter the case, I have had situations befall
me throughout my life that most find amusing, few have experienced and keep me
in a state of constant vigilance awaiting the next “Ripley’s Believe it or Not”
moment.
I have shared with you the now infamous chronicle
of me walking my dogs whilst a funeral was in full swing, chasing down my rouge
dog and having my pants drop down around my ankles as I tackled Gemma right
smack in front of all the mourners.
I have divulged the more than embarrassing
attempts made at dating here in squeal like a pig county, as well as
misfortunate outcomes of trying to make a good impression on someone with which
I had a crush on when I lived in Arizona
I have revealed to you the various types of
insects that have yet to be discovered by the entomological society, such as
the moth that was so humongous it actually blinked at me.
I have opened myself up to impart on those who
read my stories that there is always a humorous side, no matter how bad one
thinks the situation is….like the time the house was permeated with the stench
of death, and of course it was I who discovered the source of said odor – the
broken open can of cat food that had taken on a writhing life of its own.
My parents moved here in 2000, I followed in
2003, so they had 3 full years to encounter some of these circumstances I have
had the pleasure of stumbling upon.
Until I had arrived neither my mother nor father
had the unique satisfaction of having a large arachnid fall into their lap
while they were seated on the hopper at 3am. Nor the delight of lifting the lid
to the trash can in your room only to have yet another giant, hairy arachnid
sitting on top of the trash glaring at you because you interrupted his quiet
time.
They have not had the unique joy of walking
across the yard, first thing in the morning only to have a gaggle of geese drop
a present on you as they fly south for the winter.
They have not heard the pitiable screams of a
mouse being chased through the house by several cats and a dog, when I had to
follow in pursuit and attempt a capture and save this wretched creatures life.
I also mentioned the rat infestation we had some
months back, in which we mistakenly called on a local company to help us
eradicate, much to our dismay, it did not end well for the rats or us.
Nor have they had the apocalyptic deluge of frogs
invading their bedroom and having to chase them down and save them from 11 very
curious and not so helpful felines.
These are just a few of the encounters I have
endured here in the rural, backwards American armpit I call home.
Recently I have divulged our Beagles zealous
curiosity with sniffing and howling at our dishwasher, and the surrounding
cabinetry.
We all were in denial, we convinced ourselves it
was just the usual temporary invasion of mice from the surrounding 200+ acres
of freshly plowed under fields, as every year. Soon enough the mice discover a
home with 20 cats is probably not the best place to take up residence, and they
move on (probably to our barn).
We denied all the signs (to put it politely) that
our feline friends were leaving us, trying to tell us that we were not just dealing
with a little mouse or two, again we floated down the river denial.
We have been having a stint of exceptionally bad
months around our house, with my Mom in such pain, my on again off again
psychosis, my fathers pratt fall in the backyard that has led to him still have
moderate lower back pain, leading us to WebMD diagnose him as having a
fractured disk, of course he won’t go to a Doctor. Combine this with the fact
we are all allergic to the water, we break out in rashes every time we
shower…it just has been a very rough patch.
My bad luck is still holding strong, most days I
wonder why I even bother getting out of bed, and today was just one of those
days…
To start, I shall set the "mood":
I am on an increased doseage of steriods (which increases my moodiness)
and I am PMSing, a dangerous combination to anyone...
One of my feline friends decided she did not like
her breakfast, so she left me a ‘little present’ on my bed. So I start
my day waiting for my mom to complete her laundry, once that is out of the way
I can wash my bedding and be off to face my regular chores.
But Murphy had to rear his ugly head…just in time
for me to wash my first load (on a Friday afternoon mind you) the washer breaks
down. The good thing: because I am such an obsessive compulsive anal freak, it
is still under warranty; however, Lowes laughs at us because they will not
drive out this far so we have to find a local service to come fix it.
This does not bode well with the luck we have had
in the past with locals, yet we find one willing to come out, but not until
Monday. So a sleeping bag it is for me for the weekend, and the repairman’s
visit should be a story all its own.
At this point I am ready to give up on my day,
when I head into the bathroom, yes the infamous bathroom, and what I hear
sounds something like a very large creature with very long claws (perhaps an
escapee from an episode of “Tales from the Crypt”), scratching and clawing away
at the bathtub.
At first I thought it was our in house diablo
cat; Thor, messing around in the bathtub playing, so I pull back the shower
curtain, and no Thor (or any other feline to be seen). Whatever was causing the
ruckus was exhausting itself something fierce and I could actually hear it
panting!!!
I forgot what I was in there for and ran out of
the bathroom racing to share my most recent experience in the cursed bathroom.
It had my mother so curious she in fact grabbed
her crutches and hobbled to the hopper to hear for herself…what she heard was
the pitiable, unknown creature knocking, as if at our front door:
“Please let me out?”
Now, I have not yet taken my happy pill for the
day and I am heading to the medicine cabinet to do just that, I have had enough
of this day, the misfortunes, the creepy scratching and knocking in the bathtub,
the dogs barking at the dishwasher…
I happily swallow my little blue pill and head
out to my room for a lay down until my nerves settle a bit.
I have forgotten to mention that I have had a
regular, unknown nightly visitor to the door to my domicile, which causes quite
the hullabaloo with the cats in my room, as a result I get even less sleep than
usual.
It is as yet unidentified, I know it has a white
face it eats canned cat food, dry cat food and dry dog food…which really does
not narrow the prospects much…but I keep feeding it different items hoping to
determine if it is a cat in need or just the usual rural raccoon or some such
critter.
But I digress, my happy pill and lack of
sleep combined to knock me out for a 3 hour nap. I missed making dinner, so Mom
and Dad had to settle for what we call “Denny’s” night (it’s the perfect greasy
diner breakfast with all the trimmings).
I am less anxious than I was earlier, after all,
my horoscope has been telling me to learn acceptance, so I am practicing.
Until I hear something being rearranged in the
cabinet I am standing right in front of…now it is one of those old timey
cabinets that are so deep they placed a 2 level lazy Suzan spinning shelf so
you can reach all the stuff you store in there. This one happens to contain
mixing bowls, casserole dishes, etc, so when they are moved they tend to make a
loud sound.
Silly me, in my foolishly relaxed state thought
nothing of it, thinking it was Thor misbehaving again. I open the cabinet, and
begin to spin it round searching for the culprit, fully expecting Thor to leap
out at me. I felt some resistance when trying to spin it around, and I would
soon be face to furry face with the cause of said resistance.
Much to my unreserved shock, I was staring right
into the beady black eyes of an opossum!!! Now this is just too much!!!
I slammed the cabinet shut, all the horror
stories of how vicious they can be when cornered and the 50 razor sharp teeth
in their mouths, I could not help myself – to my absolute chagrin I screamed
like a woman!
Now for my damn near 40 years on this planet I
have prided myself on being calm, cool and collected in any pressure situation
(not involving spiders), but this place has broken me like a cheap chachkey
from a tourist shop – I actually screamed like a woman (how horribly
embarrassing, and an act my Mom will NEVER let me live down).
My Father came running while my Mother sat in her
chair in the other room screaming for updates on what the problem was between
her fits of hysterical laughter.
My father finally finagled out of me why I was
screaming and laughing hysterically like an escapee from the mental ward and he
went to check the cabinet for himself, and sure enough, the culprit was still
there.
Not one cat, not one dog was alarmed to this home
invader. My father tried to bang on the door in hopes of scaring it back the
way it came, all to no avail.
All we could do is pin the cabinet shut, and the
accompanying drawers so it couldn't get loose in the house and our animals
could not get in at it, and hope it has gone along its merry way by morning! If
not it is time to break out the “Have-a-Heart” trap and hope it feels like
being caught……
In conclusion, amidst all the commotion our
‘alpha male’ cat finally noticed there was something amiss in his
house and he proceeded to take a dump right in front of the offending cabinet,
which, of course I discovered by Braille. The cherry on the whipping cream of
my day....
Lucky me, now I get to take a shower in the
cursed bathroom in the very same tub this Virginia Opossum which: “ is the
largest member of its genus, family and order and is the largest of the
opossums", imagining the clawing sounds from earlier in the day, so all
throughout my shower I was closely watching the drain and the tub plug for
little paws reaching out at me…
I hope he takes the opportunity my father created
for him by opening all those wonderful crawl space openings to make his great
escape and we can begin the search for where he got in and fill that damn hole
before we have a parade of possums and raccoons prancing through the house!!!
Oh, and if you were wondering, that last nerve I was trying
to preserve with the little blue happy pills, has left the building with
Elvis…..
