We have a cat. Her name is Precious. I got Precious for my daughter to encourage her to sleep in her own room at age 9. My daughter had a beautiful room full of stuffed animals to sleep in, but often ended up in my bed in the wee hours of the night. Which was fine as I was a single mom, but sometimes it got a little uncomfortable when I would wake up to her foot in my face and toe nearly up my nose. I didn’t get much sleep.

Precious is a Rag Doll breed with long white fur and huge round eyes. She is the sweetest cat, but I think she may have some mental problems due to lack of oxygen by strangulation. You see, my daughter is very much like myself, very literal. She took the word Rag Doll to think her cat was well, a Rag Doll. Many nights when I would go to check on my sleeping angel, she would have Precious in a death grip tucked in the crook of her bent elbow. Precious being the great cat that she is never moved during my daughter’s slumber and would stare at me with those big blue eyes saying “Excuse me, would it be any trouble for you if you could so kindly give be a bit of assistance?” She speaks with at British accent in my mind. I would release her, fur all matted down from the dampness of my daughter’s underarm and she would go on her merry way stalking the house for moth intruders and attacking the house plants.

Then there was the “Science Project”. My daughter decided to try out several types of catnip and monitor a cat’s behavior, Precious being the test subject. The testing went on non-stop for 2 weeks. The Meowie Wowie brand proved most potent, leaving poor Precious stoned on our kitchen floor until she felt the need to chase objects that weren’t moving like the sofa, dining table and the wall. She began running into walls after that and was never quite the same. She also became very paranoid, especially when we mentioned the word V-E-T.

On our most recent trip to the vet, I allowed my daughter who had just received her driver’s license to drive us and the plan was, I would hold Precious in a towel on my lap. We also had our Chihuahua with us which didn’t make the 30 minute drive any easier because as with most Chihuahuas, he must be in a lap AT ALL TIMES. As soon as we walked out the door Precious began her low meow, which I think translates into “Help me! I’m too young to die!” She was in my lap all of 20 seconds before 7 pounds of fury bullied his way into her spot. Sorry Precious, the Chihuahua is king, he told me so.

Precious first begins to cough and throws up in the back seat. I have an old Mercedes, not an awesome Mercedes. I call it my Frankencedes, because we have brought this thing back from the dead no less than a dozen times. The Frankencedes has no A/C and I live in Florida. So we must keep the windows down, but not so far that the animals will jump out, so it’s hot in there. We stop; I clean up the puke as my daughter tries to keep Precious from escaping into the forbidden forest by the side of road. We get back in the car. My daughter is driving well for having her license for just a few days and I see Precious squat. Oh great, she is peeing on the seat. We stop clean up the pee. Oh how I hate cat pee. The car is hot, the cat is now screaming at the top of her lungs, my daughter is nervous and we all smell like cat urine.

A few minutes later, I see Precious lift her tail by my daughter’s huge pink purse. I see it, falling onto the purse….poop. Precious has outdone herself and has released all of the bodily functions that she has control over into our car in less than 20 minutes. We pull over again and clean up the mess. Now we are all stressed out and finally make it to the vet. For the ride home the vet gives us a box to put her in and we take it, but it only echoes her hollering so we let her out figuring she has no bodily fluids left to bestow upon the seat of the Frankecedes and we drive home. Once home, Precious sits in a corner of the dining room and stares at the wall to freak us out like the Blair Witch Project. Traumatized by our recent venture out of the safety of her house, she doesn’t move for 3 hours.

A few weeks later my daughter had a blind date. She and her date went to a restaurant with a cozy booths. As most teenage girls, she didn't order much. Afraid to show she had an appetite. My daughter reached into her purse for her lip gloss and felt a hard ball. She rolled it around her hand inquisitively wondering what this thing could be.  “A freeze dried or candied blueberry?" She loved those and thought it might still be good, a tasty little treat until she got home to raid the fridge. She pulled it out of her purse and inspected it as her date was too preoccupied to notice, devouring the last bit of his rib-eye. She stuck the tip of her tongue out to give it a little taste. Just before she put it to her mouth, she horrifically recalled the car ride to the vet. Precious must have pooped not just on her purse but in her purse that day we went to the vet and upon further inspection, she realized in her hand she held a petrified piece of kitty poppie. She quickly tossed it under the table and excused herself to the restroom to scrub her hands in scalding hot water.

The lesson of this story; just say no to catnip, we have seen what it can do. Say yes to kitty tranquilizers when transporting a cat with severe paranoia. Don’t have a purse that is so large a cat can poop in it and you won’t find it until 3 weeks later. And lastly, do not let your children play under restaurant tables. They might find a blueberry.