Today was a monumental day. It was the day that my wife and I together walked out to our respective cars and climbed in as we headed off to work. It was monumental because today was my wife’s first day at her new job. So, dressed for success, she got in her van and I (dressed more like a youth pastor) got into my trusty steed: my ’92 Crown Vic.
At the turn of the key, I heard the usual rev of the V8 engine for a split second–and then a loud and omenous “THUD.”
I kid you not–the special moment of us climbing in our cars and heading off to work was interrupted by a *POOF*–a cloud of fine, white hair coming out from under the hood of my car. Not a half a second later, like a bullet, a cat shot out from under the car and scampered into the neighbor’s yard.
Shocked and dazed, I got out (my car still running), opened up the hood and lifted it to see what I’d find. I seriously thought I might see a tail. Upon lifting the hood, another *poof* cloud of white cat hair rose from the revving engine. Despising cats as we do, my wife and I looked at each other with a contented look in our eyes. I thought, “Well, I guess that cat won’t sleep under MY hood again.” And off we went to work.
But later that morning I was on my way to pick up my son for a doctor’s appointment when all of a sudden my engine began to shriek. Checking the gauges, the exhaust, and anything else I could while driving down the road, I didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary, so I decided to keep going (carefully) to my destination. When I got there and opened the hood I found that the serpentine belt was 2/3 of the way shredded and belt shrapnel was all over the inside of the hood, and hanging underneath the car. I thought to myself, “I hate cats.”
So, I limped the car home after cancelling my son’s appointment, and just got a call from my mechanic that the new serpentine belt is going to be $100 installed. I should have asked him if he wanted to trade instead for a used cat.