So apparently, my ten-year old son turned into a bookie this morning. He decided to launch the first annual Mother’s Day Cat Races at our house. We have three cats, he assigned himself, my daughter and my husband a cat to “train,” collected bets, which he wrote down on some kind of weird paper, and gave me the job of standing in the kitchen and shaking the cat food to get them to run. For some strange reason, we all cooperated, and it was hilarious.
Bella, is a small, delicate little tortoise-shell kitty. She is kind of hyper and loves my husband with a strange, obsessive intensity. So Hubs was her trainer.
Blue is a huge, fat Garfield of a cat. He is a gray and white tuxedo mutt who flops down at random intervals when hauling all that chub around gets to be too much. The Girl was assigned this bundle of endless energy.
Tigger is the latest rescuee who we found in a glass case at Petsmart. He is orange and supposedly a Maine Coon, which based on his size (big, but not fat like SOME people) and luxurious hair seems to be accurate. He is a momma’s boy, and is marginally afraid of my son who made himself Tigger’s trainer.
Since Tigger will run down the main hall of our house, but then makes a sharp right and hides behind the couch when he hits the family room, the edge of the family room was the finish line. Monkey Boy downloaded a megaphone app on his iPad and made a big long announcement on it and a ready, set, go 3-2-1 thing and they were off. As soon as I heard him say go, I started pouring food into their bowls. Tigger, who wanted nothing more than to get away from my son, took off at warp speed, Blue who is always interested in food was hot on his heels and Bella, who is in love with Hubs, ran because she was initially startled and then turned back to look for her Daddy. In the end, it was Tigger by a length and a duck behind the couch due to the horror of being held for a while by Monkey Boy and Blue of course, was the first one to the kitchen and the promise of delicious kitty kibble.
I came to several conclusions during this fantastic, new, annual Mother’s Day event. First, my son is even more clever than I thought he was. First, he chose the cat that is afraid of him and will do whatever is necessary to get away, figuring out that said cat would also be the fastest due to fear. Second, my son also has a brilliant future as a business man or maybe a politician or organized crime boss due to his ability to scheme, take bets and generally get people to participate in things they don’t really feel like doing, but in the end they enjoy on some level. Third, fear, or food, gets things done faster than love because the one in love with her trainer had no desire to leave him, only turn and gaze at him with adoration.
Now that the first annual races are done, I think we should expand and invite in other cats and trainers next year. We could charge an entry fee and take a percentage of the bets for the house. Awwww SNAP!! Maybe Monkey Boy doesn’t have to be a crime boss all by himself!! Is there such thing as The Godmother? I can put my fingertips together and mutter “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse,” just as well as Don Vito Corleone did. Yessss, I can see it now, a Cat Race empire…
Happy Mother’s Day friends, be kind to one another 🙂