Giving a gift can come back to haunt your dreams

QCS Columnist

Have you ever had one of those moments where you wish you hadn't given a gift to someone?

We all have those moments of regret where a gift that we have given was not a good fit, brought about problems or even resulted in injury.

For myself it is sort of a line of regret and injury and a few times a loss of sleep.

I have two cats, Brownie and Toby. Yes, I am aware that Toby is a strange name for a cat. My mom wanted me to name him that despite what she might say today.

Well, the cats have had some toys ranging from stuffed mice and birds and for awhile they stole my dice, rolling them around the house, placing them in strategic spots so I'd step on them at night as I got up to use the bathroom in the dark.

I removed the dice from their list of toys and they immediately began to pout. They would play with the mice and stuffed birds but they longed for the dice and the clacking noise they made when rolled across the tile floor or against the wall.

So after much consideration and an endless amount of meowing by the two cats, I elected to buy them four, mind you I said four, rolling balls with bells inside.

At first it was a no-brainer when I saw the toys hanging on the shelf. I was certain the cats would simply love them. My decision was reaffirmed when I opened the package and gave them to the cats to enjoy.

Instantly, the cats began to bat the balls around with their paws at a furious pace, running through the different rooms of the house. It was almost like watching a soccer game. Toby takes the pass he beats the defender and has an open shot... GOAL!

I was happy to see them enjoying the balls and not dwelling over the loss of the dice. My friend Amanda has bought nosey toys in the past for her cats and had some regrets. I was certain I could handle the additional noise just as long as the cats were happy.

However, four nights into having the toys, the cats decided that I needed to have a rendition of Jingle Bells every hour on the hour.

It got to the point that I had a dream that I was a butcher and every time the bell rang I had a new customer to greet.

I was happy when two of the balls got knocked under the couch and the jingling was down to two bells. I'm aware the cats could only play with one of the balls at a time. Imagine the racket that a cat can make when there are four balls within reach.

I talked to Amanda about the racket they were causing and she suggested that I pick the balls up at night and hide them until morning. I of course knew that her advice was sound, though I felt bad taking their toys away so I let it go for one more night to see if maybe, just maybe, the cats would choose to sleep and not make so much noise.

Spoiler alert, I was wrong. That night the cats made it their duty to play with those balls for the entire night, sending me spiraling out of control into a jingle filled series of night terrors.

I was a bellhop, a short order cook and even had to deal with the constant dinging of the bells from the Salvation Army collectors standing outside every store in the mall.

Now, some might say its cool that I can remember such vivid details from my dreams but trust me, when you meet Packer's great Reggie White and all he is saying is “jingle jingle,” you tend to become a bit annoyed.

The next morning I woke up and I was not my usual chipper self. OK I'm going to be honest. I'm never chipper when I wake up. I got up walked to the bathroom stepped on one of the balls adjusted my footing to make sure I didn't break the ball and in the course of doing so I stubbed my toe on the wall.

You know those times when you hurt yourself so bad that you can't even curse and all you want to do is hit the inanimate object as to inflict the same suffering to it? I was in one of those moments but I held my composure and limped along to get ready for the day.

As the day went on my toe got better. I saw the cats for lunch and even got a laugh out of them rolling the balls around and nearly ramming into each other as they darted in and out of rooms.

Later that night, after we watched a movie, I got up, turned off all the lights and picked up the balls and set them into the cabinet in the hallway and looked at the kitties and said, “sorry guys a noise ordinance is now in effect after 10:30 p.m.”

The cats sat in the hallway staring at the cabinet as I watched from the bed. Just as I began to feel my eyes getting heavy, Brownie turned towards me and began to walk to the bed and began to meow constantly in protest for me to release the balls. Shortly after Toby, Brownie joined in the protest.

I may have won the jingle battle but have now entered into the meow wars.

Thomas Garcia is a senior writer at the Quay County Sun. He can be reached at tgarcia

@qcsunonline.com