Never a Dull Moment

 I turned the key in the lock and pushed open the front door. I heard a jingling from the other room as Ringo appeared from around the corner, bounding towards me. I barely had enough time to set my keys down on the table before Ringo leaped upon me.

“Hi, Buddy! Hello! Hello! You’re so excited to see me!” I exclaimed, a smile breaking across my face. Ringo’s tail wagged enthusiastically as I showered him with lots of love and pets. 

Mom’s head poked out from the kitchen entrance. 

“I thought I heard your voice. Aren’t you supposed to be at school?” she asked.

“Yeah, I forgot my Euro notebook. Can’t forget that, especially not today. I have a quiz in a few hours,” I replied, pushing Ringo off my legs. He sat expectantly in front of me, giving me those begging eyes I usually couldn’t resist. I squatted down next to him, ruffling his head and playing with his ears.

“Aw, Ringo, I’ll play with you when I get home, okay? We’ll play a nice game of tug, and I’ll chase you around the yard. Sound good?” Ringo looked at me, breathing heavily and still thumping his tail. 

“Audrey Bunny, do you want coffee before you head back out? I just made another pot,” my mom said, turning back to the kitchen.  

“Sure,” I replied, rolling my eyes playfully at the nickname she still insisted on calling me, despite the fact that I was now eighteen. Ringo trotted ahead into the kitchen and I followed suit. 

“Here you go,” my mom said as she handed me a travel mug. I took a small sip; she made it just the way I liked it. To this day, no matter how many times I attempted to make my coffee, it never quite came out the same as when she made it. 

“Hey, Bun, aren’t you late to school?” My dad said as he walked through the door. He was dressed for work, his suit jacket in his hand. 

I glanced at the clock on the stove. “Aren’t you late for work?”

It was almost 8:30. Dad usually left around 6 to catch the train. 

“Yep, overslept.” He started patting down his body. “Shit, where are my - found ‘em.” He pulled his keys out from his jacket pocket and then half jogged around the kitchen to where Mom was standing and gave her a peck.

“Bye honey! Bye Audrey!” he called over his shoulder as he rushed out the door. I heard the front door slam and a few seconds later, his car start. 

It was quiet for a second before Ringo started barking and jumping on the patio door. My mom walked to the door and opened it. Ringo bounded outside, barking loudly as he ran across the yard. 

“We’ve really got to train him not to bark at squirrels,” I commented. Mom sighed. We said this every time Ringo did this. He was three years old and otherwise a fairly well-behaved dog, except for barking at anything that went through our yard. And despite what the trainer had advised, we opened the door for him instead of training him to not bark. Some things weren’t always perfect.

“Okay, I need to go,” I said, grabbing my coffee and keys off the counter. At that exact moment, a streak of orange flew in through the patio door. Right at its heels was Ringo, barking frantically. 

“Mom!” I yelled as the streak of orange darted through my legs. Ringo tried to as well, but he was much bigger. I could almost see the moment happen in slow motion. Ringo tried to run through my legs to chase after - what I now realized was our neighbor’s cat - but instead knocked directly into me. The heated coffee in my cup spilled all over my shirt and arms.

“Ahh!” I screamed, racing toward the sink. 

Mom beat me to it and turned on the faucet to cold. 

“Oh my god, Honey, are you okay?” She frantically ran the detachable faucet head over my arms and chest, soaking me with cold water.

Heart racing and skin burning, I shook my head. I could already feel the burns on my arms. She shut off the water and ran toward the oven where the hand towel lay. She grabbed it and started drying my arms and shirt. 

“Here, I’ll go get some aloe gel. That should help the burn.” The shock of the situation and the hot coffee was starting to wear off, and I could feel my arms and chest stinging. Mom came rushing back with some aloe. She squeezed some onto her fingers and then smeared it across my arms. I pulled down my shirt so she could access my chest. Almost immediately I could feel the stinging lessen, soothing my burns. 

“I think you’ll be fine,” Mom said, placing the aloe on the counter next to us.

“Thanks,” I said. 

Upstairs I heard something crash followed by a yowl. I had momentarily forgotten that there was a loose cat upstairs being chased by a hyper-energetic dog that had yet to stop barking. Mom and I glanced at each other before breaking out into a run. I sprinted up the stairs while mom had run to grab Ringo’s leash by the patio door. I reached the top of the stairs just in time to see the tabby shoot into my parents' bedroom from my room, Ringo close behind. I darted in after them, slamming the door behind me. Ringo was on the floor barking up at the cat, which had leaped up onto my mom’s dresser. The cat hissed down at Ringo, making him momentarily quiet. His tail was wagging, clearly implicating that he thought this was all a game. 

“Audrey?” Mom yelled from the hallway. “Where are they?”

“They’re in your room!” I called back. I took a deep breath trying to calm my heart down. This was not what I had expected my morning to look like. The door opened behind me just as the cat jumped down from the dresser and streaked into the bathroom. Ringo started barking again as he raced after it. 

“Goddammit,” Mom yelled as we chased after them, making sure to keep both doors shut. 

“Here,” Mom said, tossing the leash to me. I caught it then refocused my attention on the two pets in front of us. 

“Try to corner Ringo and get the leash on him. I’ll try to keep them separated,” she instructed me. 

Ringo was on the opposite end of the bathroom, barking up at the cat who had somehow managed to jump high enough to perch on the top of the shower rail. I lunged toward Ringo, my arm outstretched and aiming for his harness ring. The leash clipped onto something just as Ringo started to dart away. I landed hard on my knees, looking up to see that I had missed the ring but had still managed to clip the leash onto the harness. 

“Ha!” I yelled, standing up. Ringo tried to run only to be pulled back by the leash, which I gripped onto tightly. I pulled Ringo toward the door, having to pull hard since he was desperately trying to run in the other direction.  

“Put him in the laundry room until we get this cat out of here,” Mom directed me. 

Dragging Ringo down the stairs was difficult since he kept turning around and trying to run back up the stairs. Finally, after what should have taken 30 seconds but ended up taking 5 minutes, I had secured Ringo in the laundry room and made sure that the door was shut. I heard him jump up against the door a few times, whining that he had been locked in. Normally, other people would worry about their dog destroying things if left alone in a room, but Ringo was never like that, even as a puppy; it just wasn’t his temperament. 

I ran back upstairs to my parents’ room and found that the cat was now calmly licking itself in my dad’s sink. 

Mom turned to me. “Is Ringo in the laundry room?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” I responded, watching the cat. It was like this cat was a totally different cat than the one that had been running around the house just 5 minutes earlier. This version was quiet, calm, and seemed somewhat friendly, which was starkly contrasted to what I had witnessed a few minutes ago. But I wasn’t going to risk going near that cat, and it seemed like Mom wasn’t going to either. We didn’t know how to handle cats, we’d always been dog people and never had to deal with cats. Besides, after we had just witnessed the way this cat could act, we were not about to risk ourselves to move this now-seemingly nice cat. 

“Whose cat is that?” Mom asked, still eyeing the cat. 

“I think it’s Mrs. Eastoft’s. I’ve only seen the cat through the fence a few times,” I replied.

Mom considered for a moment. “Which do you think would be faster, calling her or going to her house?” 

“Uh, probably going to her house?” After a second, I asked, “Do you even have her number?” 

Mom’s brow knit together as she thought about it. “I think I had her number when we first moved in, but that was a long time ago and I’m not sure she’s kept the same number,” she replied. 

We were close with only a few neighbors, despite living in our house for over 15 years now. My family had made an effort to get to know everyone when we first moved in, but many, like Mrs. Eastoft, hadn’t necessarily maintained contact with us over the years. I saw her outside on occasion, watering her plants. I’d wave and say hello, but that was the extent of our interactions. 

Now that I had had a second to breathe, I realized I was still in my soaked shirt, and when I looked down at my legs, I could see 2 dark patches forming around my knees. I internally groaned, knowing that if I showed up to school with those, people’s minds would automatically go to the gutter and make the wrong impression. 

“I’m going to go change and then I’ll go to Mrs. Eastoft’s,” I said to Mom. 

“Okay, Hun, I’ll stay here and watch this manic cat,” she replied, causing me to smile a little. 

I walked over to my room and when I looked over it, I couldn’t tell if I was surprised in a good way or a bad way. The racing animals had knocked over my desk chair, no doubt Ringo’s doing, had disarrayed the pillows on my bed, and knocked everything off my nightstand. I wasn’t sure if this was a lot of mess, or not enough mess considering that a dog and cat had played tag all across my room. 

I couldn’t be bothered to clean all that up right now. I found a pair of capris that went past my knees and a new shirt. It was a warm June day, near the end of the school year. I was going to be hot in the capris, but what could I do about it if I didn’t want people assuming things about me. Gah, stupid teenagers, and their stupid dirty minds. 

I went back downstairs and cut through the backyard to Mrs. Eastoft’s house. When I was younger, I discovered a low lying part of the fence all the way in the back that I could climb over instead of walking all the way around the block. I knocked on the back door and stood back. I hoped she was home; I wasn’t sure what Mom and I were going to do if she wasn’t. We didn’t really know how to get the cat to leave the bathroom. The doorknob turned and the backdoor opened. I hadn’t realized how short Mrs. Eastoft was compared to me. She seemed a lot taller when I walked Ringo. 

“Hi, Mrs. Eastoft. I just came to tell you your cat is in our bathroom and we aren’t sure how to get him? out.” I realized I actually did not know the gender nor the name of her cat. I had just been referring to it as ‘the cat’. 

Mrs. Eastoft peered at me from under her glasses. “And how did Chuckles end up there?” she asked. I almost chuckled at the name but refrained from doing so. 

“I can explain as we walk there, but I would really appreciate it if we could get Chuckles out. I really need to get to school,” I said as I started walking back toward the fence, only to realize that she was most likely unable to go over the fence. I turned back around to head towards the street.

Mrs. Eastoft chuckled from behind me. “I know you think I can’t go over the fence, Dear, but I am quite agile for my age.” She hopped over the fence easily. I stood there, surprised. I had not realized she was in good enough shape for her to do that. I hopped the fence and followed her toward the house. 

The whole ordeal of her getting Chuckles was fairly easy. She went upstairs and scooped him into her arms. Chuckles didn’t even resist in the slightest, he simply purred.

After she and Chuckles had left, my mom and I were finally able to relax. Surprisingly, the whole fiasco only lasted about 25 minutes. Mom and I sat at the kitchen counter, Ringo at our feet. 

“How are your burns?” she asked. 

I examined my arms. They were a little red but they would be fine in a few days. 

“They’re fine.” 

We sat in silence for a moment. 

“What a morning,” Mom said, sighing. 

“Yeah,” I said. “There’s never a dull moment with pets, I guess.” 

“Very true,” Mom replied. “Never a dull moment.”