Co-parenting with the neighbors. Cat edition.

Our cat, Moose is an orange tabby who marches to the beat of his own drum and doesn’t really give a flying f*** what others think of him. We acquired him after the unfortunate death of Apple the kitten who died during my first trimester with Claire. It was tragic and sudden and when you’re on a hormonal rampage like I was, it sucks extra bad. Then to add insult to injury, our long time cat Bungee the Siamese ended up developing diabetes, so we shipped him back to my parents. I was catless.

So being pregnant and extra emotional, Matt suggested we go to the Animal Rescue League and adopt a new cat. When we got there I instantly fell in love with Moose. He was the cat who got my attention by clawing at me through the cage. Matt instantly fell in love with a cat who was meowing and purring up against the cage. We were torn.

So being pregnant and extra manipulative, I suggested we get both. This is how we came to have Moose and Lila.

Moose lived with us for a whole year before he started to befriend our neighbors’ cat, Phantom. Phantom is an indoor cat, but would sit in the window and watch Moose when he’d come up to their deck. Then he started to befriend Phantom’s owner, Jen. Then slowly, but surely, Moose started to mosey on into their house and make himself at home. (I’m sure Phantom wasn’t too happy about that.)

For the past year or so, we’ve been co-parenting our cat.

When the idea of Matt and I possibly moving to Philadelphia, we had asked Jen if she’d be willing to take Moose since we wouldn’t be able to take him with. She happily agreed. Then we decided not to move and so Moose continued to go between houses.

Then Chris and Jen put their house up for sale to buy a new house down the street about a mile. We loosely discussed the possibility of Moose going to live with them when they moved. Then we’d talk more seriously back and forth on Facebook and decided that Moose would be much happier with Jen. Moose could only handle so many tail pulls in one day. Lila on the other hand is a slut for attention and will take it however it comes.

Jen came over last night to pick up Moose and take him to his new house. I was singing “Movin’ on up,” all day to him since their new house is large and in charge. Jen said, “Are you sure you can part with him?” I shouted to Matt in the dining room and said, “Matt, Moose is leaving.” Matt yelled back, “BYE MOOSE.” I looked at Jen and said, “It’s going to be just fine.”

So now we’re a one cat and one dog house and that’s just fine with my asthmatic husband. He got to keep HIS cat. I’m just happy Moose is happy, because the poor guy was tortured here by the kids and Matt. I’m going to miss him, but to be completely honest, he was hardly around and when he was, he was hiding in the basement or sleeping on the couch out of reach.

I’ll see him on the 31st. We’re heading over to watch the Pens game and I hope his new diggs won’t change him too much.

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About Cassie

Two sisters from two misters. What could be more fun?

Posted on January 6, 2010, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 7 Comments.

  1. And now, whenever the next pet dies, you can just tell them it went to live with Chris and Jen!

  2. I don’t know whether the best part of this story is that you have a cat named “Moose” or the “Bye Moose” comment from Matt yelled from the dining room. Love your writing and this post really tickled me. By the way, off point on this post but on point from the Luca ordeal, when our daughter, who is now 20, was 3 months old, we had her in one of those bouncy chair portable do-hickeys that they probably don’t make anymore, and we put her in it on the table even though there were warnings posted all over the tags not to do this and sure enough, she went splat onto the wooden kitchen floor still attached to the bouncy chair. Fortunately, she was OK. Then there was the time when she was 10 days old and my husband was clipping her nails (they don’t even recommend this anymore, now you just file their nails…duh!) and he clipped a divot from her finger and bled. Both times doctor calls were involved and both times we thought about calling DPW to report ourselves as being incompetent parents. Then there was the time that we lost our then three year old son at a water park down in Disney World for what felt like 20 hours but in reality it was 20 minutes. Wow, even now all these years later I feel guilty and horrible about these things but stuff happens. I am with your stepdad on this one. And hearing similar parenting stories and experiences soothed me many years ago when I was going through these ordeals and I hope these stories help you feel better too.

  3. Here’s what’s sad: I had to learn this on your BLOG! Call your mother more often!

  4. HAHAHAHAHAHA!! Your husband cracks me up: “BYE, MOOSE!”

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