The Cats Attack Again

I am old enough to remember when Mommy and Daddy used to both get up at 5:30.  They had little time for Foley or me as they prepared for work. After we were fed, I was put in my crate and Foley on her red blanket, where we patiently waited for eight hours until Mommy got home.   When we heard the door open and smelled her, I barked my head off until I was let out of the crate. Foley laid on her blanket, not looking at Mommy until she was ready. Foley was the coolest. 

In 2011 Mommy retired, and a short time later, Daddy stopped working full time.  We rarely got up early again, but when we did, we knew it was trouble. Doctors always do bad things to people right after breakfast.  They like to be done with their torture before lunch.

Last Wednesday, we were up early.  I knew something was wrong when Mommy didn’t linger under the covers with River as I slowly, and thoroughly, did my outside business.  She showered quickly and without getting her hair wet. My parents skipped breakfast, but thankfully we had ours. On the previous Saturday, my parents went to a wedding, and our supper was delayed for two hours.  We could not stand another late meal. Truthfully, I was not much interested in eating when my parents were up early, and something was afoot. I am always too nervous, wondering what drama the day would bring. 

During their absence, I waited nervously in my crate while River paced the floor from the living room to the kitchen with momentary stops to look out the window and bark mournfully.  They were gone for four long hours. When they came home, Mommy had something over her eye. River and I knew why. The cats must have attacked my mom’s eyes in her sleep again, and she had to have another round of cat attack surgery.  The first one was two winters ago when the cats were successfully flushed from her eyes. Somehow they had wormed their way back in right under our noses.

We jumped around at her ankles while Daddy led Mommy to her chair and cautioned us not to trip her.  River noticed because Griffons are detail orientated, that she had the plastic patch over a different eye than she did after the last operation. We knew we would have to be very careful around her. We couldn’t be underfoot or beg to be picked up.  This was a tall order for a little dog.  

The scariest by-product of Mommy’s recovery from the cat attack is that Daddy has to take on more responsibilities around the house, which includes taking care of us.  Lord, help us all. We don’t know how it is possible, but whatever Daddy does, no matter how hard he tries, is always at least a little less enjoyable than how mommy does it. Our period of suffering has officially begun.

River and I are going to try and take good care of Mommy.  When she had her knee surgeries, Foley stayed with her the whole time and sat on her chest during physical therapy.  My sister was a great nurse and inspiration. The best River and I can do is to try not to piss her off. After a dozen years, I might as well start now.

And we are going to be on extra high alert for cats.  This is the last time they are attacking our mommy’s eyes.  


Gosh, even after building that darn wall, cats still cause trouble.