Confessions of a Scaredy Cat

Allow me to preface this with the following:  I have some issues with animals. My greatest concern is the unpredictability factor, especially animals I'm unfamiliar with. This concern has increased since having children. I know, I know; people are unpredictable too, those with serious mental illnesses even more so and I was a mental health therapist to addicted, mentally-ill criminals so what's my hang-up? I'm not sure, but for some reason I have a level of discomfort around animals I don't know.

And here's the part where I confess that I left my kid on the porch with a stray cat. A one-eyed stray cat. Because I was skeeerd! This time last year, Caleb went out onto the front porch one morning before I caught up to accompany him. Within seconds I hear his little, fear-filled voice calling out to me. I peek outside to see Caleb standing in the corner, backed up against the house. I survey the area to determine what's causing him to cower. I spot the gray tabby. He's thin and tough-looking with a missing eye. The thing freaked me out. Of course a pet-less little 2-year old would be frightened. Instead of my inner mama bear jumping into action, I quickly closed the storm -door and called Matt to come rescue our son. And he did, he stepped outside all brave-like, scooped Caleb up, and came inside. My hero! He laughed at me and poked fun at me for being afraid.

Since that experience, I've eluded that particular cat more than once in a bit of a scared frenzy. He really has never done anything threatening. I'm just a wimp. I envision it going all crazy on me and flying at my face or something. I dunno. Speaking of mental problems...

Then the other night after a run to the grocery store, I park my car out front and go to step out. I place one foot out and spot this black and white cat. I've never seen this one before. I've come to recognize most of the strays in the neighborhood (what happened to spaying and neutering??). I stopped dead. I got chills. Now I am sounding really crazy. I probably shouldn't be sharing this. I yanked my foot back in the car! Then I did what any sane person would do, I called my husband who was inside. I asked him to come "rescue me from this cat." He laughs at me. I tell him to "hurry up!" The cat slinks away so I consider myself safe. No sign of Matt yet (seriously?! What is taking him so long?) but I decide to get out of the car. I start up the walkway and bounding out of the darkness comes the cat. With hands full of bags and car door shut, I'm committed now. I act casual as I walk up the stairs. I know animals can smell fear so I'm trying to squelch mine. I walk briskly up the stairs and onto our porch, simultaneously willing the cat not to rub against my legs **shudder** and Matt to come to the door. The cat is circling the porch rocking chairs, eyeing my shins.

Finally! Matt is at the door, I yell something to him about not coming quickly enough and demand that he open the door "right now!" He does and I hurry into the house. He looks at me, perplexed by my irrationality, and then he glances at the fluffy black and white kitty on the porch. He laughs. Again. I try to explain my fear but I just sound kooky. Matt assures me that a) the cat is most likely friendly, b) if the cat were not friendly, I could easily overpower it and protect myself, c) "He's not a stray, house cats roam the neighborhood," and d) it's "nice" when cats rub against your legs. Hm...agree to disagree on all accounts.