Box of Kittens

As my husband watched one of his cop drama shows tonight, I heard a quote that sent me over the edge.

"Nobody is always bad or always good. Everyone has some good and bad in them."

Even though it was just a show, I believe that is a statement most people would find true.  The majority of the general population is naive enough to believe that everybody has some good in them.

There has NEVER been and will NEVER be a time when I will ever tell you there was anything good in my dad.  If you have ever read any of my other posts regarding my dad, I suppose you could have been naive enough to believe somewhere in his dysfunction there was something good.

Well...you'd be WRONG!

He is an evil, rotten bastard who lacks any hint of a redeeming quality.  That is not an overstatement. 

I keep going back to another birthday where he tormented me.

When I was in second grade, I kept asking my parents for a kitten for my birthday.  At the age of 8, all I wanted was something to love me and knew I could find that in a kitten.  Of course I would think the love of a kitten would be sufficient, I was 8.

At 8 years-old, I didn't understand how cats reproduced or that a momma cat in our neighborhood was about to nest in our garage and give birth to a litter of kittens.  I just knew my birthday was coming and I wanted a kitten.

When my dad got home on the day of my birthday, he walked in the door carrying what looked like a package.  He handed me a shoe box and told me to open it.  Much to my surprise, there were three tiny kittens in the box. 

I immediately sat on the floor in total amazement.  I so clearly remember that overwhelming love I had for these kittens.  I know I was in a bit of disbelief that I had actually gotten what I wanted.  Not only had a gotten a kitten, but I got three!  I petted and held and loved all of the kittens.  I was instantly bonded to these little creatures.

After what seemed like an hour with the kittens, my dad took the box from me.  He put the lid on the box, wrapping it with tape.  Although I was horribly upset, I knew they would be ok.  There was a big hole in the side of the box.  It wasn't big enough for them to crawl out, but plenty big enough for them to get air.

My dad took me and my box of kittens outside.  I was sure he was going to show me where they would be staying in the garage.

He had me hold the hole in the box up against a pipe on his truck.  Being 8 years-old, I'm sure I had no clue what he was doing.  He turned on the truck and turned it off after a few minutes.  He came back to where I stood holding the box and removed the tape from it. 

Again, I remember so clearly what he said.  "Take your cats and go play."

Walking away, I still didn't know what had happened.  I'm sure my excitement over having kittens way outweighed any questions about what he had done.  But that wouldn't last very long.

As I got to the garage and opened the lid of the box, I saw my little kittens laying there.  They were lifeless and limp.  I petted them, held them and loved on them, but nothing happened.  The rambunctious, squirmy kittens I had held 20 minutes earlier had the life taken out of them, leaving me heartbroken and confused.

What had happened to them?

I cried as the reality of their demise set into my little head and heart. 

My dad, the same one who had seemingly made an 8 year-old's dream come true, was now standing over me with belt in hand. 

As he swung his belt across my arms and back, he kept mumbling about how mean of a little girl I was to kill a bunch of kittens.  I was getting in trouble, big trouble, for killing these sweet babies.  I loved them so much and yet, was so upset that I had hurt them.

It wasn't until years later that I really grasped what had happened.  Though from that day on, I never asked for another pet and was fearful to love anything for a long time.  For a long time, I feared that having a pet or loving anything would cause it to die.  When I figured out that it wasn't me, I still lived with fear.  It was more a fear that my dad would kill a pet or anything I loved.

I don't believe it is just an opinion, I believe it is truth to say that this man was and is evil.  He isn't good sometimes and bad sometimes...he's bad all the time.  I don't think he has anything in him that can ever be good enough to equal it all out.

I'm really not ashamed to admit that I am filled with nothing but hatred towards this man.  In fact, I think the bible even supports that hatred.  Romans 12:9 says love must be sincere, hate what is evil and cling to what is good. 

He is evil and I hate him!