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The collaring of Mimi Le Mew

The sky has fallen. I am not kidding. The freakin’ sky has fallen and it happened this afternoon at World Headquarters.

For the first time since around September 2006, Mimi Le Mew is again wearing her bright pink collar. Since there are many in the world who are unfamiliar with Miss Mimi, let me try to explain the significance of this collaring (and the surprising lack of human injuries during said collaring).

Since the time of Mimi’s adoption in November 2005, I have never been able to pick her up and snuggle her like I have with all of my other kitties. Oh, no, not Mimi Cat. The first few months she was with me, I was able to capture her just long enough to sustain some bodily harm and to put her Soft Paws on her front claws; however, the look of fear in her face made me soon realize that this would not be a sustainable solution. Sadly, she was declawed. Don’t get all up on my shizzle about this. What’s done is done, mmmmkay? Right. Mimi will let me pet her, but it must be on her terms. I pet her when she allows it and for as long as she deems appropriate. She usually will sit on the couch with me, but not touching me. On rare occasion, however, she will sit on my lap.

Mimi is very much like a wild cat. No one other than Michael and the pet sitter have seen her for more than a few fleeting moments. The pet sitter has sort of touched her through the blanket on the bed. Anyone visiting World Headquarters other than Michael will not even know there is a Mimi Cat in the house. She is truly elusive. After having her in my home for over four years, I still cannot pick up Mimi. Mimi will sleep in the bed with me, but that is only because I am not upright and she feels that it is safe. I can pet her, but try to pick her up and you are looking at some serious injuries. I am not kidding. She’s a little skittish, ya know.

Michael and I clearly had a death wish because we decided that today would be the day to collar Miss Mimi. The first attempt did not go well. That is one FAST cat, I tell you! She got away, but we remained uninjured. Not to be defeated by a teeny kitty, we gave it a second shot with a little more thought and preparation. The bedroom door was closed. Michael crawled under the bed where she had been hiding since the previous failed collaring earlier in the day. I was on the floor to shuttle her toward Michael.

He made his move and Meems tried to flee. She ran for the door, but it was closed! Curses! She then quickly slinked over to the armoire and hid herself inside. Trapped! Now was our chance. Well, it was Michael’s chance. I’m no fool. He was already on the floor anyway, so it seemed practical. Besides, time was of the essence for this operation.

He used a thick sweatshirt that was in the bottom of the armoire. Have you ever seen a scared cat? Their ears are lowered, right? Well, when I peeked in there, Mimi’s ears were so flat against her head that I would have thought that she didn’t have ears at all! Her pupils were completely dilated and even when I shined the flashlight into her face, they remained dilated. Poor Meems. Michael reached in (forearm covered with the aforementioned thick sweatshirt) and delicately eased the collar around frightened Mimi’s little kitty neck.

Then we ran, partially high off of the adrenaline pumping through our veins.

I haven’t seen her since then (and I am certainly not going to go LOOK for her!), but I suspect that she may kill me in my sleep tonight.

If anyone at work is reading this on Monday and you haven’t heard from me, SEND HELP!!!



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