(Before this tail tale gets started…if you haven’t met SINthia, my persona, evil twin, the other-other woman in Ben’s life, you best catch up here or here.)
It all started a normal day, for Kansas: watching wheat grow in 60 mph winds. Normal that is, until our power went out. Barney and I decided a day shopping for shoes would be better than sitting around the house waiting for the lights to come back on. So we left, driving 30 miles to a town with any size and a Kohl’s store.
I hate shopping for shoes. Hate it. I hate shopping for the most part anyway, unless it involves a thrift shop, pawn shop, auction house or something like that, where you can find some unexpected and insane DEALS. Cause, Friend, let me tell you, I love a good deal.
Almost two hours later, we were back in the car. Under the car next to me and there was a little black and white tiger striped kitten sitting staring back at me. I thought to myself, Self, that little guy looks like my Russell at home and drove off.
Russell is just a plain ole run of the mill farm kitten, out of a sick old stray we picked up roaming the streets in town. He isn’t anything special to look at, but has a cute personality and we loved him. When we got home we found Russell was MIA.
The thought of Russell braving 60 mph head winds plus 70 mph stowed away under the car and now being all alone in the big city made me sad. The more I thought of that, the sadder I got. I’m not a crier by nature, kittens come and go on the farm and I understand that, survival of the fittest and all. But, that night I told Ben how ‘I taught I taw a puddy tat’ that looked like Russell in the city.
“Oh by now, some old lady has picked him up and he’s drinking warm milk out of a bowl in her kitchen, he’s probably forgotten about us.”
“I would rather put him down myself, that to think of him abandon in that town all alone.” With that, a few tears, and a prayer for an unknown old lady, I drifted off to sleep. I rose in the morning on a mission. To find Russell.
When I got to Kohl’s I discovered one of the employees had taken him home to a cat who demanded he be taken to jail the pound. After a brief exchange she said I could find, Max, there. Russell, his name is Russell.
I walked into the pound and found Russell among the other cats waiting for a home. He was big eyed and happy to see me.
“That’s him. Can I just grab him and go?”
“Nope, we got paperwork to do. Name? Address? Phone?”
“Paperwork? You’re kidding me.”
*deadpan look*
“There’s a twenty dollar charge for picking him up, and eight dollars a day to board him, and…”
“But you didn’t pick him up. That lady dropped him off, in fact, he hasn’t even been here 24 hours, more like three. I’m not paying $28 for that. I don’t have that kind of cash on me.”
‘”You can put it on your credit card.”
“Or your debit card.”
“I PAY CASH!!! Twenty-eight dollars, is that the best you can do?”
“Yes, ma’am, $28 is our policy. It’s eight dollars a day until five days, that would be $60 total. Then, we would have to put him down if not claimed. (Sniff)”
“Oh for the love of….save it, would ya? I live 30 miles away from here on a farm. Do you think I hauled him to town on purpose to dump him? I would rather shoot a cat in the back of the head, than to dump one in the city and have to think about him trying to survive all the idiots.”
*Blank Stares*
“..I mean, get a clue, do you think I planned for him to stow away yesterday, only to drag back down here today to pay tweeeenty-eight dollars to pick him up? Do the math lady. I’m trying to be a responsible pet owner, here. Trying not to burden you with a stray and you’re charging me for it. That’s ridiculous, I just won’t pay it. Think of how much my kitty would have cost you if I hadn’t shown up to be responsible.”
And with that I turned to go….
Without saying a word Miss Smuggy pants reached and grabbed a citation, and said with a barely audible voice, “Then I’ll have to write you a citation, for animal abandonment.”
And that my friends, was the straw that broke the camels back. I twisted off.
“And if I don’t pay it?”
“Bench warrant.”
Reeeeeeeeeley! Will you send the kitty cops after me? With their taser guns and choking sticks….And when they find me and pick me up…you reckon they’ll stuff me in one of them cat carriers? Be sure and note on my warrant… I’m not current on my shots, I tend to hawk up a hairball once in a while, I refuse to give myself a bath, and won’t use a litter box. But don’t worry, I already have one of them i-dent-i-fa-ca-tion tattoos…and when Ben finds out what an ass I made out of myself and refuses to come and claim me… you can put me and Russell down together and bury us both in the pet cemetery out back then send Ben my wedding band, Russell’s cat collar, and a bill for $120! That sounds like a great plan.
“Animal abandonment? You’re crazy. (Nothing like the pot calling the kettle black…) What do you think I’m here for? I came here to pick up my poor little kitty that rode under my car for 30 miles, spent the night at some strangers house and got dumped off here for some bureaucratic run around. It’s not like he’s a felon and did a quick B and E (breaking and entering) for three hots and a cot…”
Did I mention, I was mad.
When I’m mad I do math in my head really fast. [Court cost $75 plus $25 fine plus another trip to town with the chance of this happening again...or $28?]
It was then I realized they had me. Yes, my friends, they me by the tail and they knew it. I was screwed.
The day before I came to town looking for a great deal, and didn’t find one. Today was a new day, over a barrel or not, if it hare-lipped-the-queen I wasn’t leaving until I got a DEAL.
“Is twenty eight dollars the best you can do?”
“Well that’s our policy.”
“I don’t give a ratts, what your POLICY is. I asked, is that the best you can do?”
“I don’t know, you’ll have to talk to Don.”
“Great, where’s Doooon?”
Don turned around and said, “Oh my God, WHAAAT? WHAT NOW? ”
Don had been standing with his back to me the whole time listening to all this. He already knew, what now. But, I ran through the WHOLE, what now, story just one more time, in case Doooon missed something the first time.
“Yes, twenty-eight dollars is the best I can do.”
“I’m just trying to be a responsible pet owner. That’s not good enough!” With that, I turned to go.
“Okay, twenty dollars.”
Done.
Forty-five minutes and twenty dollars later, I sprang Russell from the brig.
As I was walking out with my felon, little miss Smuggy Pants quipped, “His nose is kinda runny, he needs a shot of antibiotic…”
I gave her my best stink eye and said, “Yeah, he don’t look very good. I’ll shoot him when I get home…”
(I keep antibiotic in the fridge at home, and that’s what I would shoot him with, but she didn’t need to know that.) HA!
Time stopped again. Some more. The PETA loving bunch looked like they had just given a drunk a drink, a junkie a hit, a killer a victim. But they were so glad to see me leave, they just let me go.
Russell is home again, chasing butterflies, lounging in the sun, telling tales of his time in the pen, and showing off his jailhouse tattoos.
I haven’t seen Sis. She was going to run in the school board election, but, given her cat’s record, she decided she wouldn’t stand a chance. Personally, I think she should pursue a life of a bail bondsman. That would be right up her alley. Instead of Dog the Bounty Hunter, she could be Katt…One Tough Pussy! I went down to the jailhouse this afternoon and gave out her number, I’m sure she won’t mind.
See ya!
SINthia
Tags: bail bondsman, Dog the Bount Hunter, evil twin, funny, humor, jail, persona, posting bond, russell, SINthia, true story
Can you tell me who did your layout? I’ve been looking for one kind of like yours. Thank you.
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL I can totally see you jewing down that poor lady at the pound to get your cat back. Is this a “true” story? OH I AM LAUGHIN SO HARD!
All my SINthia stories are true. That, my friend is why she is my EVIL twin.
And…Poor Lady at the pound? Excuse me, she wasn’t poor, she, she, she, well she only plays well with animals.
Since I posted this, I’m getting spam from DWI lawyers and bail bondsmen. lovely. The low life’s love SINthia. I guess now I know my real place in life.
So glad you enjoyed it. Maybe someday I’ll do a ‘SINthia Rising’ series and include some stories about when we were growing up. Or not.
Really, I’m better off in a cage. Blessings. Sis
Aaron–
Donna at Gone Country Graphics is a total rock star when it comes to websites, layouts, blogs, anthing, ANYTHING, that has to do that kind of stuff. Her link is http://www.gonecountrygraphics.com/.
It says craft website, but if whatever you want is what she’ll build. She rocks.
Sis
“‘tought I taw a puddy tat’ that looked like Russell”. That’s funny!!
DWI lawyers = low-lifes? They’re not ALL bad!
Aww Man! That was freakin’ funny! I have tears in my eyes. Even Rustin was laughing! I have absolutely no doubt your words were near verbatim. Dang, girl! I just love you!
While reading this MY blood pressure was a risin’..I really wanted to hear that you reached over the counter (because I pictured you standing in front of a counter) and that you smacked her across the head…. maybe even smacked her a couple times, not like in the nose or mouth but the kind of smack that means “what are ya thinkin’, are you stupid” (my boys have gotten some of those) LOL. Keep the stories coming!!
Tina,
See, that’s why I like you. You just said out loud what I was feeling.
If I would have smacked her, Russell and I would still be in the BIG house…
I think I’ll call you to come throw my bail next time.
V-8 moments–gotta love em.
Sis
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