Lastest Post: Want to Know How to Mind Your Own Business? Drop the Kitty!

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As a kid, we heard our parents tell us to keep our nose where it belonged.

We heard our playground playmates tell us to mind our own bees wax.

My mother used to tell me to tend to my own knitting.

Of course, thanks to Twitter, we have MYOB.

In recovery rooms, we’re advised to stay behind our belly buttons, to not pay attention to anything beyond the end of our own nose, and my personal favorite:

Stay within your hula hoop.

I’ve been hearing that one a lot lately.

Seriously, do we not have enough going on in our own lives that we have to insert ourselves in somebody else’s business?

Like, who died and made us the be-all and know-all?  (Remember that one?)

I swear if I never hear the phrase, “If I were you, I would _______ (fill in the blank)” it will be too soon.

One day, my friend Megan and I were chatting about how all “those” people offer unwanted (and often uncalled for) advice.  We decided that “they” were determined to infringe on our right to make our own decisions.  We just knew that “those” self-righteous people were out to make our lives miserable with their so-called good intentions.

Megan said, “We should just tell them all to drop the kitty.”


Here’s the story, as told by my wise and witty friend:

I started leaving cat food out on my front porch for a very small, bright white cat after a neighbor moved away and left it roaming the neighborhood. I named the kitty James Brown because every time he meowed, it sounded like the singer screaming his song, “I feel good!”

When I first saw he’d been abandoned, I told James Brown he was welcome to live with us if he could get along with my 90-pound dog, Jake. I let the cat in the house, and after several very fast and noisy laps of chase, we made the mutual decision that JB could not be in the house.  

James Brown returned outdoors and each day I’d fill the cat food bowl on the front porch for him. After a few days, I noticed a huge gray cat bullying James Brown off the porch to eat the food. I asked the bully cat politely not to do that anymore.

The second time I chased the bully cat away, I told him that if he didn’t stop, that my very large dog would do the honors next time.

The third day the bully cat was there eating the cat food, and simply wanting to scare him off, I  opened the front door and jokingly called,  ”Jake. Get the Kitty.”

Jake ran onto the front porch,  clamped his huge jaws around the bully cat and started shaking him side to side. A friend was visiting, and both of us yelled at the top of our lungs, “JAKE! DROP THE KITTY! DROP THE KITTY!”

Jake did drop the kitty and James Brown was never bullied again.

The moral of the story?

The next time you’re inclined to bully your way into someone else’s business, jump back in the circle of your hula hoop, mind your own bees wax and drop the kitty!

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