So last night my mom and I are catching up on our “Grey’s Anatomy” reruns from Lifetime. I’m a Grey’s junkie and I got my mom hooked on it a month or so ago and now it’s kind of our thing to watch together.
I heart YOU, George O’ Malley.
Anyway, last night the episode was about O’ Malley’s dad going in for surgery to remove his cancer, and his dad says “I ran over the dog you had as a kid”. George says “stop talking as if you’re gonna die”, and they have a moment. My mom presses pause and looks at me with sad eyes. I thought maybe the moment made her all ferklempt. Then she drops a bombshell.
“Hed, I ran over your cat Dinky when you were a kid”.
What? Who the hell was Dinky? I never had a cat named Dinky! Are you drunk mom? She says, “well, we had so many after we moved…it was the runt of the litter with Bud and them that we brought with us…”
My brain starts going through my cat family tree. My first cat (on my mom’s side) was St-Bone, named after that kid Boner from “Growing Pains” (first off my mom must be a little loopy to let me name a cat after BONER) when I was nine. St-Bone was a stray that wouldn’t leave our porch, and one day she got into the house, hid under my bed, and had four kittens. From that moment on she was pretty much our cat. I named the four cats. There was Bud, the all black cat; Mojo, the wacky cat that my brother liked; Mickey the mellow tiger; and D.D., the fluffy beautiful cat that-
Mom? Do you mean D.D.? “Maybe that was it. You thought it had ran away…”
Oh…my…God. My beloved D.D. My first D.D. I had loved that cat so much I ended up having three more D.Ds in my life that would all run away. They were cursed, or just stupid I guess. I remember when I thought it had ran away I was devastated. As a matter of fact, D.D. was the reason, the literal reason I started to pray to God. I was in Awana at the time, and I knew from church that good people who prayed to God sometimes had their prayers answered. When D.D. ran away I thought if I prayed hard enough he would come back. So much for that, he was freaking dead the whole time.
My mom goes on to tell the story. “Well, it was the day of the family reunion, and me and your sister were making all those egg rolls to bring? Anyway, we got in the car, and the cat must have been behind the tire. We quickly put him in the trash can and I turned to S and said, ‘you can NEVER tell Hed about this!’ She agreed and said ‘no way, she would flip out!’ Remember when Bud died? You were so upset! And I didn’t want you to think I did it on purpose or anything…”
Tell me why, twenty years later, I was shocked. Mom?!?! Why the hell would you tell me this??? “Because I didn’t want to take it to my deathbed or anything, and the dad telling George reminded me of it…” Thanks for clearing your conscience, mom. And my fifteen-year-old sister, she was an accomplice? Mom, did S even cry when she saw the cat had died? “No, I don’t think so”. Great, my mom is a cat murderer and my sister is a sociopath.
I tossed and turned all night. My mind kept going back to that poor kitty. I honestly would have rather my mom kept that secret in until she was dead and gone. Do you have any secrets that you can’t tell a family member? You can tell me, I won’t narc. Has this ever happened to you? I may be scarred for LIFE!