Seven lives left for Bing-dot-com

Well, you all met Bing (or Bingeeee, or Bingle...whatever Duncan calls him today) a few weeks ago.

Our story starts early Sunday morning. My brother in law Mark arrived to cut firewood. We chatted in the driveway in our church clothes.....Bing wound himself around my ankles until I relented and pick up his sorry little (read FAT, gangly teenage cat) self. He snuggled Duncan and I put him down on the porch.

We got in our Explorer and headed to church. About a mile down the road, Jay looks at his phone and realizes that we will NEVER make it on time and since we only sit in service for the singing part and take Duncan out to the lobby for the service, where we watch on the TV set....we decided not to make the 40 minute trip for Duncan to be very angry about missing the singing. :D We turn around in a driveway and head the other way towards the closer town. We drive about nine more miles. We drive down our road, aptly named Little HURRICANE , because of the hills and turns. Then onto BIG Hurricane and a few more miles. Then into town. We stop at Hardees for a bite to eat. WE spend a few minutes in line mulling over our coupon using options and finally arrive at the window to receive our food.
We pull into a parking space to tear up biscuits and whatnot for Duncan. We are there a few minutes, sipping drinks and waiting for Duncan to eat without worrying he will stab himself in the eye with a spork. I just happen to look down and see a kitten walk out from under the front of my truck....hmmmm...odd? Wait a MINUTE.....that looks like MY kitten.

I say "Bing?" and Jay looks at me like I am a lunatic (as does a guy beside us in the parking lot). I jump out...and follow the kitten (bing lookalike?) and say "Bing-y" as sing-song as a person who fears iminent death for her son's cat can. He looks back...Oh MY it IS him. He goes through the railings to their outside eating area...and isn't running but not coming either. I reach through and grab him by his tail. It was less than pretty, the rescue, but I grabbed him. Luckily, he is quite tractable, and didn't bite my wrist or anything.

I look him over and besided a smudge of grease on his left paw...he is without a mark. I put him in the back and drive to the Rural King. He manages to climb through the dog gate and is sitting on Duncan's seat back and Duncan is not happy. I remove him to Jay's lap and he rides there to Rural King, goes in Rural King and gets all sorts of complements on his cuteness. I remind him constantly he is NOT a cute and GOOD kitty, he is, in fact, a VERY VERY BAD kitty.

We get home put him back at the barn and give him food....another BAD KITTY reminder...and I move on.

How, does a little kitty ride in the hood area of a vehicle 9 PLUS curvy miles. (also I do NOT drive like any grandma you know). How does he then not jump out while I am tearing biscuits, or while I am ordering or while I was sipping my drink, but just when I looked?

So...Bing lost a life on Sunday....hopefully he will be careful with the remaining seven.

Oh...and lest you think I cannot count. Bing also carries a broken right front paw from getting stepped on by a 1200lb HORSE. His carpals were broken, but Dr. Martha assures us he will be fine (as a bad kitty can be). I have caught him SINCE the stepping incident playing with the same horses tail as if it never happened. The horse doesn't care, but once in awhile he does stomp a fly and apparantly Bing is the sweetest kitty, the cutest kitty, a lucky kitty but VERY VERY bad and not VERY VERY bright.