Swimming in ants and cats at the Cottage

At first it was just a couple scouts. Sniffing around the cat’s kibble dishes. PP gets out the Windex and delights in drowning them. (Is this evil? No. Ants are evil. Unless you’re an ant. Then you’re very small and helpless. And a bad swimmer. Though PP must grant that she may not be such a great swimmer either in a pool of Windex.)

She moves the cat dishes. Into the little area that crowds access to the coffee maker, drawers of ramen, tubs of kibble. Oh it’s all so stupid!

Why does the Cattage have ants now? PP hates hates hates ants! They are simply the most pesky persistent pests around. Why do they exist even?

PP sees no reason for their existence. They just create ant chaos and PP frustration.

Plus they can’t swim.

But maybe this is the key.

If PP can somehow lure them into the bathroom and up into the toilet bowl, then she can drown them and flush them out of her cattage. (The toilet has no tank lid still—the landlord has mysteriously not called her back about replacing the antique toilet with a new toilet yet….what does this mean? PP doesn’t want to go there right now. She has a headache. From the ants. And the runaway cat.)






Parker has escaped in the midst of Windexing the ants. Yes. 10 minutes before she had to leave for work. Nowhere in sight. PP gets out the can of cat food, pries open the metal lid. The other two cats come running. But no Parker. PP goes out onto the patio. Taps the can with a fork. Ding ding ding. Usually this works to entice the runaway inside.

But not Parker.

Well, Dorothy Parker (Parker’s namesake) was always a bit of a trouble maker wasn’t she? At least when she drank. Fortunately Parker hasn’t had any kitty martinis so she should be able to find her way home.

But what if she doesn’t? Then what?
Oh why oh why oh why did PP let her escape in the first place? Right. It was the goddamn ants’ fault!

So PP calls in late to WWU. It’s okay. Wonderful Admin Woman and Delightful Diligent Student are both cat people. They get it.

But this still stresses PP out.
Where oh where is that Parker Pudding?

What if she’s lost? Or out in the street? Or gets run over?

PP can’t stop herself from these missing cat thoughts.



She plops down at the cute little patio table with the open can of cat food sitting forlornly in front of her. Near tears. (Why has she been so emotional since moving to the Cattage? Well it is a big CHANGE! “You’re so vulnerable now,” DL had soothed last week during the Toilet Trauma.)

Glances at her watch. 11:45. She’s supposed to be at WWU in 15 minutes. It’s a 45 minute drive. What was she gonna do? Should she just go and let Parker fend for herself outside today? Or should she call in sick and not go at all? Or should she call again and let the DD Student know she’s gonna be really late?

It’s all too much.

PP goes back inside. Stands in the middle of the darling little cottage and ponders.


Then a little bell jingles. Faintly. Could it be? Then the thumping of little cat feet. Then whoooosh….in runs Parker who immediately plops down in the middle of the rug right at PP’s feet. Breathing rapidly. Eyes wide with mischief. Like she’s had no idea that she’s been the cause of such consternation.

She is a cat after all.

“Parker!” PP is so happy. “Where the hell have you been?” PP bends down to pet her. She’s all wet!

Has she been swimming? Is there a kitty pool nearby that Parker has discovered? Does Parker even like to swim? (PP knows that Pablo likes the water, but Parker? Not so much)




This may explain everything. Parker found a kitty pool. Gave swimming a try. Found out that she hated it, so just got the bottom of her belly wet and her little paws.

Then ran for cover at the Cattage to escape the wet.

And as for the ants?
The Windex is only a temporary (albeit satisfying) solution.

PP found some deadly traps in the garage. Plastic squares to be strategically placed on ant trails.

She hopes this works.

Otherwise, PP isn’t going to be the only one testing the waters. The ants’ days are numbered. If not by drowning, then there’s always the politically incorrect environmentally unsound RAID!

She just has to be careful the cats don’t get near it. Otherwise, what?

She’ll just have to throw up her hands and go to the pool.
What other recourse is there when all is too overwhelming?
None. Whatsoever.
Unless you’re Parker.