“No matter how much cats fight, there always seem to be plenty of kittens.”~ Abraham Lincoln
So I’ve held on to this story for a while now, a couple of weeks. I’m not too entirely sure why as I know that some might find the tale rather interesting.
Other times when I have thought about writing it, I was always interrupted. So I locked the door, unplugged the telephone, and have tossed the cell phone into the toilet.
Never in my lifetime to this point did I think that I would actually be an eyewitness to an actual “cat fight”. But it did happen, and within the walls of my own home.
I had a nurse coming by to check on me that day. That still is full swing, although sadly the physical therapy is not.
But I had also set up services with a second home agency. And that second agency was to be responsible for hiring an attendant to help me with those personal needs that I am unable to take care of myself in my home. And not so much the medical side of things which require attention.
Because of the fact that the second agency had nobody to hire right away, they were insisting on sending people to my home to help get a start on things. And boy, did I need that!!
My only problem was that one day…. I was not told that anyone was coming. With the nurse already in place, it set the stage for the entertainment purposes of this blog post.
The nurse from the first agency has actually stood in my home and called the other agency to find out what was going on, building on the desperate “need” that I had to get someone to even come out. Weeks prior she had begun to get frustrated with this second agency that nobody was coming out to help at all.
The surprise visit of this “specialist” coming to help clean and do laundry and what not during the same time of this “go-get-em” nurse was rather explosive.
The nurse began to jump down the throat of this particular volunteer. She said that she had been here about a week before, but they had sent so many people in and out that I couldn’t remember them all.
The nurse got on to her and started talking about how poor this second agency has become. She focused on the fact that the agency and its workers failed at communicating with themselves and their clients. She went deeper to even explain it that nobody within the agency knows how to pick up a telephone to tell the clients which day they will and will not be there. On and on and on.
The woman just sat there stunned. Each and every time the nurse would speak she would point the finger directly at this woman. But when the woman would respond, she would look at me and not the accusing nurse.
I would have to say that I fully agreed with what the nurse was saying. I was surprised that the nurse didn’t start yelling and screaming and carrying on. The accused sat there frozen on my couch.
Then one word was uttered by the woman who sat so still: “Bitch.”
Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd in this corner…. DING! DING! DING! DING!!
They both moved at each other at the same time, grabbing and swinging and everything a person could imagine. I had two professionals from two separate agencies at each other’s throat. ALL professionalisms were out the window.
It went on for several minutes before I actually had to somehow get in between them and break it up. Dangerous. I’m not sure how I am surviving today to be honest.
Men: NEVER attempt to break up a cat fight. You’ll get sucked into the whirlwind of it all.
The only reason why this was broken up so “easily” was at this altitude in a wheelchair, when I reached up to grab an arm and pull it away… I had misfired and instead grabbed a breast. Although by now I don’t remember which one. And I don’t want to, to be honest.
Once I got them separated, I told the “specialist” that I honestly had NOTHING for her to do that day and the nurse was SUPPOSED to be there so with those weighing factors, including the fact that she had started the confrontation, she had to leave.
The nurse gathered her things and prepared to do what she had to do and I walked the other one to the front door. I made sure to lock it behind her so there was no threat of her coming back for more. But I never did think to walk the nurse to her car, “just in case”. Oh well. Lesson learned right there.
So there was no baby oil, chocolate pudding, or even mud. But the cat fight happened anyway. I knew that there would be someone who would just happen to walk by and then they would call the police and then EVERYONE would be in trouble and I did what I could to prevent it.
Never seen a cat fight until then. Hopefully I never will again. Unless I’m kidnapped by my friends and they make me pay a $20 cover charge to get into somewhere. And then… just maybe then…. there will be baby oil, chocolate pudding, or mud.
Dambreaker 