I Believe the Expression Is, “Born In a Barn, Were You?”

Wow… this took a long time to get up and running, but nonetheless, here it is. Life happens.

So I am in the delectably fortunate position of being taken on a vacation to the OBX (Outer Banks for those not in the know) soon. Why am I feeling so much trepidation? Several reasons I can pinpoint – primarily, my cats. My dear little fur piggies. MY CHILDREN. Go ahead – laugh now – get it out of your system. So anyway, one of the dilemmas of being single with pets is – who feeds them while you are away?

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My friends husband will be giving my babies their daily toonanomz. This is a good thing and for which, I am very grateful. However, he has one habit that I’m having trouble getting past. He forgets to close things… like doors. Not just occasionally. His wife (my best friend, also the one taking me to the OBX) and I have sat at her dining room table and watched him progress through their kitchen, which she has just finished cleaning, and systematically leave every cupboard, drawer and yes, even the refrigerator door standing wide open as he gets whatever it is he is searching for or desires to eat. He leaves car doors hanging open. Medicine cabinets… open. If its got a door, he’s leaves it open. It drives her crazy. It would drive me right over the edge. I mean all the way to Looneyville and then some. Probably one of the reasons that I’m still single. These little things would turn me into a serial killer.

Now, in all fairness, he’s a really good guy – kind, gentle, good provider, loves animals, kids, responsible (other than closing things), good sense of humor, smart, consistent, etc. He just gets lost in thought. Lost to the point of no return, at least not until a few hours later. That’s when he forgets to close things. Everything. This makes my stomach churn.

This brings me to his only other irritating trait. He constantly interrupts. It is impossible to have a conversation with him. He will not wait for you to finish a sentence. So this means every time I’ve tried to talk to him about feeding my CHILDREN, he has cut me off, started telling me how much they’ll hate me when I come home (guilt trip for leaving the cats and I suspect him too – make the best friend pay for it – yeah like I need to hear THAT), and, most irritatingly, the old “if they get hungry enough, they’ll eat anything” line. The man obviously does not know MY cats.

Here’s the thing – he’s also allergic to cats. We’ve managed to circumvent this problem when feeding my 4-legged children by moving their wet food dishes into the hallway, where he can reach the dishes, toonanomz, and can opener without coming into the house. I have nightmares about him getting lost in thought while he’s dispensing the toonanomz and then just turning around and walking away.

Cats are curious little creatures. Cats also don’t survive long outside where I live. That’s why my cats do not, have not, and will not ever go outside. They are strictly housecats. They need to stay inside at all times. It’s just too dangerous outside and unlike dogs, cats will not come when you call them – not unless you are their person and you have a handful of cat treats. And maybe not even then, depending on what else is going on. Cats will give you the paw and march on. It’s totally their call and they know it.

So this is driving me insane. Crazy to the point of being ill over it. Do I (A) Trust him to remember to close the damn door and pray to God he does? (B) Say screw it, cancel the wet food for the week and feed them only their normal dry crunchy food, circumventing the need for him to even open the door? (C) Not go on vacation at all and stop worrying about this altogether, risking the wrath of my best friend (his wife), (D) Try to talk to him ONE more time, hold my tongue if he interrupts me AGAIN, keep talking – persist in getting what I want to say out there? or (E) taking any and all suggestions in this slot.

My logic says it will probably be ok, but my gut says NO. My fear is overwhelming. All I know is, if I go away and return to find my fur babies gone or dead, I will never forgive myself for leaving and will probably never speak to him or my best friend again.

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