Meeting the parents of your beloved can make for some interesting times. Heck, Hollywood even turned this into a movie! For myself personally, the bad things weren’t so much meeting Mr Shit Date’s parents, rather it was meeting their pets. And one cat in particular.
Mr Shit Date’s family had housed a menagerie of animals over the years. At one point their house seemed less like a suburban Australian one and more like an animal shelter with several fish, birds, cats, some dogs and a pet rooster in residence. Mr Shit Date had found the rooster one day by the side of the road and decided he’d rescue it. This bird didn’t last long though, because it woke everyone up in the early hours with its cock-a-doodle-doing. Mr Shit Date would laugh that this kind of calling doesn’t just happen in the early hours of a morning. Anyone for KFC?
Now that Mr Shit Date was an adult his parents had just three cats. There was a fat and affectionate boy stripy and an elusive girl stripy who used to while away hours in the backyard. On one unfortunate day just prior to a storm she had been howling to go outside so incessantly that she was eventually let out. When the storm finally hit she had to seek refuge from the elements underneath some garden furniture. And boy, did she look apologetic then!
There was also a black calico cat named Betty. Mr Shit Date called her Betty because he thought she was ugly with her black fur with little orange flecks. She was small and feisty and used to chase the sun around the house, particularly in winter. But it was our first meeting I will never forget.
Mr Shit Date’s parents and I were sitting in the backroom that overlooks the yard. We were about to eat a delicious morning tea, a chocolate mud cake that had been made by Mr Shit Date’s father who was an expert at preparing sweet treats. His signature dish was a lemon meringue pie that the extended family spoke about in hushed tones. Today’s menu however, was chosen on account of my love of chocolate.
We’d just sat down to drink our coffees when Betty appeared in the room. Quick as a flash, she made a beeline for the cat litter trays that were sitting on the other side in front of the window. We all waited with bated breaths and hoped it was a number one. But she proceeded to do one smelly poo. It was so eye-watering it almost put me off the chocolate cake. I thought, “Lovely to meet you too, Betty!”
The rest of the day went off without a hitch. We sat around talking and there was motor racing involved because Mr Shit Date and his Dad were big revheads.
In the afternoon Mr Shit Date and I decided to go for a walk around the beautifully-landscaped backyard. We stood there all love dovey and shared a kiss. It was so romantic… until I felt a presence. From the house all I could see was a black cat staring at me. From a distance you couldn’t see her other markings but you could make out that she was really unamused. This made me realise why so many people are superstitious and believe they’ll have seven years bad luck after seeing a black cat. I wonder what’s instore when you see a black one shit and then give you a piercing look. That can’t be good. Spooky.