Never go near bridges with my Dad.

So this summer around a campfire, the issue of what happened to our cat several years ago came up. My dad (Pig Pen) decided to tell us (everyone) about how the cat was so annoying that he put it in the backseat of his car, drove it over the Bourne bridge, and let it out "in a nice neighborhood." We had this cat when my sisters and I were about ages 11-14, so upon hearing this, we were quite shocked.

Now, I get that my dad has no patience whatsoever, but the fact that you are taking your daughters' cat away from them because it "meows" too much is probably something you should not do. Given the fact that poor Razzle was UNBELIEVABLY annoying, I still loved him like there was no tomorrow. And if I remember correctly, he loved me as well. That is probably why everyone calls me the "cat whisperer". Cats are cool around me. That and...I whisper to them too, just because I'm quite lonely most of the time.

ANYWAY, when my father did this...he went behind our backs to our mother (let her be known as Woodstock) and they schemed this plan together. Although I have no idea what was said, I am pretty sure it went something like this:

Woodstock: "Is everything set?"
Pig Pen: "Yes, the girls are at school. I came home early from work, they won't suspect a thing."
Woodstock: "Just make sure you let it out in a 'nice' neighborhood. That stupid cat WAS annoying but it doesn't deserve to DIE."
Pig Pen: "Okay, jeesh. What I really want to do is throw the goddamned thing right off the bridge!"
*They laugh evil-y together for approximately thirty seconds, then hang up*

So after about a week of Razzle NOT COMING HOME TO EAT AND SLEEP AND LOVE ME, our parents decide to tell us that Razzle ran away. Although I'm sure that they enjoyed watching us look around outside and leave the door open extra long in case he would run up onto the porch. They would probably joke around, saying things like "Hah, look at the girls looking around for that stupid thing, I actually saw Jenny shaking the food, trying to lure him back home," and "no really, when should we tell them? I'm starting to ACTUALLY feel kind of bad."

Learning about this several years later makes me realize that 1) parents are mean to children and 2) when I was 11 years old, I was pretty goddamn annoying too, and I'm glad my father never took me over any bridges. I guess he just does that to cats that never shut the hell up.

He jokes nowadays about how he really threw Razzle off the bridge, but my mom reassures us that he just let it out in another neighborhood far, far away.

ANYWAY, at this memorable campfire in the summer, when Sally, my 25 year old sister, asked my dad WHY he did this...he simply responded with:

"Cat sucked."

I like to think that he feels bad about what he did. He just looks so lost without Razzle.