Live and Let Live?

This is J:



He's a handsome devil, (at least I think so) which is part of the reason I have such a huge crush on him.

And this is J's (not by his choice) cat:



Perhaps you remember Marley? She's the one who has acquired a taste for polyurethane. (I have the scars to prove it.) While not handsome, she is pretty dang cute, and most days I'm fond of her. However, she is most fond of J. Her favorite part of the day is after dinner, when J settles in with a blanket and book. This is her cue to get thisclose to him. She crawls all over his arms and his book and gets right up in his face. This causes J to have mixed feelings about Marley, but I know that deep down, he really does love her. And deep down, I really do love J, which is why I allowed Marley to live this morning. Well that, and the fact that she scurried under the bed before I could outfit her in a finger necklace. I do not advocate animal abuse in any form, but I was seriously tempted this morning, when I heard a fantastic crash come from the direction of the office (my project, remember?). I had a pretty darn good idea what the source was, so I ran in there to see the little African frog cube on the dresser, on its side, slowly draining. The poor frogs were scrambling for escape, as you would if your house was suddenly and violently thrown on its side. Fortunately, the lid on the cube seals tightly, and there's a little tiny hole in it for feeding purposes, so there was not a huge amount of water lost. Still, there was a steady stream running down the wood dresser, which has been in my family for a long, long time.

My first instinct was to string Marley up by her whiskers, but as I've already mentioned, she's quick. And I'm not about to hurt an animal. That didn't stop me from hollering at the top of my lungs, "THAT'S RIGHT MARLEY!!! YOU BETTER STAY UNDER THAT BED!!! SO HELP ME, IF YOU COME OUT OF THERE, YOU'RE GONNA GET IT!!" I'm pretty sure she understood the implication of my words, if not the meaning. I set about righting the cube, but chose not to rearrange the gravel in the tank at that moment. I figured the little guys had suffered enough and were in desperate need of some quiet time. I then did my best to dry the dresser and mop up all the water which had pooled on the hardwood floor. I had to sequester the traumatized amphibians in a dark closet (not fair, I know), because I couldn't trust J's cat to leave them alone, and I had to leave the house. I apologized to them profusely, promising to check on them when I got home. As of this posting, they're still alive. In fact, I'm fairly certain they're relishing the safety of the closet. On the other hand, Marley is still on MY LIST, and we're not speaking. And when J gets home tonight, he's going to hear all about how much I don't love his cat. But that's what marriage is: loving your partner and accepting their flaws. Even if their flaws happen to be a five pound bag of punk who goes by the name Marley. Oh the sacrifices I make...