Binx

The last few weeks passed before I could actually process the fact that my oldest son was "home". We all waited up for him, too excited to sit so sleep was not something we even thought about seriously. It took him about 20 hours to drive from New Mexico to our house. A few were spent taking brief naps as he was making this trip alone. He also spent some time at various gas stations and truck stops attempting to calm his psychotic cat, Binx. 
I have yet to meet a cat that actually liked riding in a car. Maybe that is because the only time most cats actually see the inside of one is for a trip to the vet. I only know that every car ride with our cat ended with a cloud of cat hair floating around and the cat shooting me looks that are too terrifying to contemplate. Binx is not a social cat on his best days. He likes an occasional stroke on the nose and scratch behind the ears. If you are insane enough to go further, you do at it your own risk. He is so gorgeous though that it is understandable if you are unable to resist the urge to stroke all that luxurious black fur. He is long and sleekly muscled like the panther he truly resembles. His coat is thick and soft like an expensive cashmere sweater. The lure of that thick fur is almost irresistible. 
He survived the journey here with most of his dignity intact. I know that the trip and the stay here were stressful for him. He is accustomed to having a house to himself with only Rick entering HIS domain. Here, there were unfamiliar sights and smells and above all sounds to adjust to in a very short period of time. He spent some time on the very top of my kitchen cabinets, with just his tail draped over the edge. He staked out the dining room chair by the window as his temporary throne.
He is also the most vocal cat I have encountered. All it took to set him off was saying his name. Sometimes it was like he was really talking to you. I tried not to think too much about what he was actually saying. The look in his eyes told me I didn’t want to know. I would walk into the kitchen early in the morning and he would raise his head and look at me without blinking at first and then he would start "talking". He never really approached me unless I was cleaning the turtle tank. We were smart enough to fetch window screens from the shed to place across the top. I knew from his forays into Rick’s fish tank at home that Binx is a hunter. More than once I had to use the spray bottle to shoo him away while I handled the turtles. 
Then Rick dropped the bomb. "Do you think while I’m home you could help me give Binx a bath?" This cat has only been bathed twice in two years. He does not like to be handled by anyone other than Rick. He definitely does not like being held down. "Sure, why not?" I avoided the whole situation until last night. It had to be done.
I cleared the counters and laid out towels. I filled the sink with warm water and a few squirts of cat shampoo. Then I looked for the demon child. For some reason the sound of running water and his name being called put that cat on alert. Rick finally caught him and brought him into the kitchen. The way the cat was panting you would have thought he was in labor. I grabbed the lethal back legs while Rick took the front legs and those vicious needle like teeth. Then the yowling started. You would have thought he was being skinned alive. 
After only a few seconds Rick and I were soaked and so was the floor. The other kids were standing guard in case Binx managed to wiggle free and make a run for it. It was all we could do to hold on to the cat without hurting him. It is shocking how strong they are given the delicate nature of their bones. Somehow we did it. 
We should have videotaped it. The cat looked like a drowned rat when I was finished. At some point his eyes seemed to widen to the point that all you could really see was white. Then the rumbling started, deep in the throat rumbling that caused his whole body to vibrate. I am not certain but I think that cat was cursing me in German. I know for a fact he wasn’t saying "Gee thanks I just love a good soaking. I can’t wait to visit again."
When I turned the water off Binx had his front paws, toes spread, wrapped around Rick’s arm and he was rubbing his face all over Rick’s hand and licking his fingers as if begging for a chance to escape. I took a big fluffy beach towel and got as much of the water off as possible. Then we did a quick "1,2,3.." and let go. That bedraggled pile of damp fur shot out of arms like he’d been blasted from a canon. He went straight under the dining room table where he gave us looks that promised retribution.
Several hours later I walked through the dining room and Binx was lounging across the top of a storage box that Rick was taking home with him. Thoughtlessly I reached out to stroke his glossy black head while I talked to Rick. Binx tolerated it for about 2.5 seconds before he flipped onto his side and wrapped my arm up and nipped my wrist. Granted he did not bite down hard, just hard enough to let me know that his memory is long and grudges were meant to be held. After I thumped him gently on the head he snorted and moved away. 
It was so nice having Rick here. Just knowing I could walk into the other room and see him made me feel good. Of course there was also the heart ache of knowing that Michael was NOT here that tempered the euphoria of having my family together again. Michael is doing well in Basic. He is not whining which tells me he is taking it in his stride for the most part. He is homesick which is understandable. We are all counting the days until October 2. I want to hug him again.
School starts on Tuesday. I am anticipating/dreading it. I will have one in high school and one in middle school. Lauren doesn’t start until August 19 so she has a bit of a breather. The house will be quiet for a few hours a day. I desperately need that. This summer has been stressful and chaotic. I just want to clean the house and have it stay that way at least until I leave the room.