That Bottle of Grape Juice is My Nemesis

I purchased that bottle of Welch's 100% Grape Juice on Sunday evening. I have tried to open that bottle of Welch's 100% Grape Juice every morning since Sunday evening. I am convinced that the cap of that bottle of Welch's 100% Grape Juice is welded to the bottle. It's too much. I wake up thirsty. I get Ada her food first (being the good pet owner that I am) and then I try to pour myself a little drink of juice. This week it was not to be. I've used steak knives to try to cut the little plastic pieces between the cap and the bottle ring. I've pulled the wrench out - too small to get around the bottle. I've pulled out the pliers. Those were of no use. I've grabbed the cap with my bare hand, practically ripping the flesh from my palm. I've used cloth towels and paper towels. The cap, it does not budge. The red grape juice mocks me. From now on, I'm sticking to Welch's 100% Grape Juice (the purple stuff).

I'm bitter.

But then. Then I became more bitter. My darling Ada (Nemesis #2) decided that she would escape from the house again tonight. This time she was not so easy to catch. This time she hid under the deck, made no movement or sound. She hid from the light of my flashlight. I circled the house in vain. I called her name. I shed tears for that cat!! I thought she was lost forever! And then. Then I spotted her as I was turning the corner of the house. Quickly, though, she darted back under the deck. Under the deck she waited. Maybe she was confused. Maybe she was scared. OR maybe she is just an ungrateful brat who wants to spend her days rotting outside! I digress. I waited and waited as the blood slowly drained from my unforgiving fingers. I called her name, begged her to come out, shined my flashlight under the deck catching the reflection of her devil eyes. Finally, I decided - it's do or die. I dove under the deck, nice wool coat be damned, and I shimmied, belly crawling on the ground, to where Ada sat unmoving. I quickly grabbed her with what little feeling I had left in my fingers and pulled her with me as I belly-crawled back out from under the deck. She was saved. I was saved. Whatever. We made it back into the house safely and when it was all said and done I wondered Why. Why when my cat barely cares that I exist except that I feed her and change her litter box. Why. Why do I find myself in this one-sided relationship bowing before her every need. Why. I guess the answer is that I get the biggest kick out of the little rat and I'm happy to have her home.

In summary, Nemesis #2 has redeeming qualities, while Nemesis #1 needs to be taken back to Krogers and replaced with a more compliant bottle of juice.