We got our kids a cat, thinking it would be easier to take care of, in case I got stuck with the job. His name was Sage and his nickname "Pooh Bear". The idea came to me when I was cleaning his litter box. How come TV ads never show the goddamn litter that the cat kicks off its feet and wind up all over the floor. Used kitty litter on my bare feet. Yet somehow I could not get it up with the vacuum.
He also would attack my hands. Just me, no one else.One day, I realized that the stupid cat thought that my red nails looked like blood. He was so dumb that he didn't know what to do with a mouse. He smacked it, let it run, jumped on it,and smacked it. Then the poor thing ran under my sofa, where it had a heart attack and died. Once in a while, our cat would catch a lizard and eat all of it but the head and tail. The tail would wiggle for a while. EWWW.
Unfortunately, as time went by,he developed a rare cancer in his bladder. He would pee all over the house, rarely in the litter box. The pet urine cleaners (who'd want THAT job?) told us when we called them for a second cleaning, that there was too much urine. We wound up replacing most of the carpet in our house. When the end was near, we had a talk with our kids, telling them that our pet was suffering and that we would have to put him down. They were reluctant, but after a few days of observing him, they changed their minds. They spent his last full day with him, carrying him around, petting him, trying to get him to drink. Then we took him to the vet, said good-bye, and cried.