In the Greek version, Pandora opens a box that releases all the evil in the world, leaving only Hope behind.
My cat, Pandora, is hell-bent on reversing this myth.
Pandora was in a box of tiny kittens outside WalMart that a family were trying to find homes for. And they were all so precious and beautiful, it was impossible to resist.
However, I forgot one extremely important fact - anything you buy at WalMart is impossible to return.
Their 'customer service', if you apply the term loosely, seems to always have a drawn out line of people waiting in despair for the one clerk to refuse their return for an extended list of reasons:
- "It was purchased on a Tuesday; we can't take it"
- "You have to return this directly to the manufacturer in Egypt via registered certified mail that costs $12 per oz."
- "Your last name begins with a 'D', and today we can't accept returns from people whose last name begins with a 'D' "
(Sorry, got a little bit off track there - I've work at customer service at Target, and Target will take back ANYthing if you can show that you paid for it - you don't even have to have a receipt if you put it on a card of any sort - and I just don't like WalMart)
But I allowed my husband to talk me into taking one of kittens home. As we drove, he held this tiny black and white fur-ball literally in the palm of his hand.
My son came up with the name of Pandora, which sounded cute and appropriate at the time for this tiny girl.
Unfortunately, Pandora turned out to be a huge, dangerous BOY cat, the fact which we were blissfully ignorant of until I took her/him to the vet's to be neutered/fixed /spayed/whatever-the -politically-correct-name-is- today.
So I took in a girl kitty, and brought back a 'stale male' - didn't know they could do sex-change operations on cats, did you?
And I didn't realize how large he was until I took him into the vet's last year for something trivial and saw him next to other 'normal' sized cats - Pandora looks liked a medium sized cougar or a very small lion compared to them.
But Pandora has suddenly come up against resistance for the first time in his nine-plus years.
I am not letting him into my bedroom.
Since spending almost a year in San Diego sans cat, I finally realized that I am allergic to cats. So after washing all of my bedding, and keeping the bedroom day firmly shut, I breath much better at night now.
But it also means Pandora is unable to come into my room.
Battle-lines are being drawn.
He has taken to wandering around the area by my bedroom door, casually washing himself or streching out for a nap, looking for a moment when he can slip in unnoticed.
As I mentioned, he is a big cat, so he also tries laying against the door, batting at the doorknob, and when truly desperate, throws himself against it.
And when he does get in, does he go and hide under the bed? Steal into a corner so he won't be noticed?
No. This is Pandora we are taking about.
He curls up in royal splendor right in the middle of my bed so that when I finally find him, I will be able to bow down and worship him appropriately.
So the myth will be told differently from now on - all the evil will be back in the box/room with him, and Hope will be the one on the outside.
P.S. Read that title for this again - that's 'legend reversed'... reversed.
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