Published I found Millicent yowling in a large planter outside my apartment window at 3 AM one spring morning in 1975. She weighed about 7 ounces, was covered with fleas and looked like some kind of cantankerous punk-spiked white rat instead of a 6 week old kitten. I didn't know her name at the time. That came when I showed her to Vicki, the woman who would soon become my wife. "Millicent!", she exclaimed. I have no idea where the name came from but somehow it seemed just right. Vicki has always had a knack for knowing just what a pet should be called. Just a gift, I guess.
Millie was, shall we say, “special”. She was slight, white and had the temperament of Rasputin. One moment she would be sleeping sweetly, the next she was yelling or tearing across the room to attack our Labrador retriever for no apparent reason. This temperament continued unabated throughout the nearly twenty years she lived with us. I know readers who are not cat lovers are wondering why we kept her but there was a certain endearing quality about her, even though it was sometimes like living with Attila the Hun. She showed up clearly needing someone to love and take care of her. We were chosen.
When I moved from Dallas to Arlington in 1979 we started taking her to a veterinarian there who had a special knack with cats. But Millie was a challenge even for him. It’s not that she was mean so much that she would just get mad and stay that way. She would hiss and yowl incessantly though hardly ever try to bite or scratch you.
One day, she was being particularly disagreeable and the vet, who tends toward unending patience, finally picked her up by the scruff of the neck and placed her gently but firmly in the sink next to the examining table saying “ok, just sit there and BE mad”, then continued his conversation with me.
Hmmm… interesting strategy.
Now, I ask you, doesn't that describe some of the people in your life. It might be family, it might be co-workers, it might be a neighbor or a customer. There they are and they aren't going away and try as you might to make them happy they have just decided they are going to be mad, hurt or whatever and there is nothing anyone is going to do about it. Since that day in the vet's office I have (in my mind) picked up many people, put them in the sink and said (though USUALLY not out loud) “Ok, just sit there and BE mad” because there was nothing I could do about it.
There is a temptation to take responsibility for another person’s emotions and blame ourselves, but when it comes right down to it, they are the ones who ultimately make the choice, just as you do.
So the next time this happens, recognize that you really are OK and if they are really determined, simply put them in the sink and just get on with your life.
March 26, 2003
"OK, just sit there and be mad."
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