Not long after the accident, I was shocked to receive a letter from Dick’s insurance company. They blamed me for the accident and planned to collect on the damages to his vehicle. (Makes sense, right!?!) After all, the police report clearly stated he was at fault for reckless driving. The letter, however, stated their investigation revealed that I “may be legally responsible for this loss.”

According to my car Insurance Company, it would have been an open shut case if I had renters insurance, but I didn’t. (Confused the hell out of me too.) With no insurance company on my side Dick’s insurance was after me personally for full reimbursement in the amount of $6, 500.39.

Usually when push comes to shove, I suck up my pride and back down. Not in this case. I was the victim. This had to be resolved, and I wasn’t going down without a fight. So, I called the number listed at the bottom of the letter. (Big mistake! Only communicate with insurance companies in writing.) The lady handling my case sounded like she hated her job and her life. Monotone, and unmoved, the wench informed me that it wasn’t her problem.

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It had become a habit of mine to draft cars on my 24 speed road bike. You know, match the car speed and get 1 foot away from the bumper; this acts as a vacuum by literally pulling you forward with little effort. Sounds pretty fun, right? It was, until my family’s fears became my reality.

The morning of November 12, 2010, there was nothing unusual about my commute. I was drafting a car at around 25 mph and about to follow it around a turn in the road, when the driver slammed on his brakes coming to a dead stop. With no time to react, I plowed into the back of his car, and flew head first hitting his trunk (no, I didn’t have a helmet on). It knocked me out. When I woke up, I noticed that I was missing the teeth on the right side of my face and panicked! Not thinking, I tried to recruit the bystanders to help me find my teeth, with no success, that were now strewn all over the road. They just stared at me with horrified looks on their faces. Can’t blame them, after all, I was a bloody mess.

Adrenaline pumping, I called my boss and left a message on his cell telling him about the accident and apologized for having to miss work. I hung up and called my father.

Dad: “Hello”

Me: “Hey dad”

Dad: “Are you okay? You sound different.”

Me: “No, I just got owned by a car. I’m missing my teeth. I’m going to the hospital.”

Dad: “Kurtis wha…”

– Click – (I hung up, not feeling up to answer any questions)

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There comes a time in everyone’s life when big changes start to occur (puberty, friends getting married/having kids and others ‘coming out of the closet’ so to speak). One of ours began this past September when my girlfriend, Courtney, accepted a job offer in Seattle. In full support of her and her career opportunity, I eagerly quit my job and we prepared for this new adventure—Minneapolis to Seattle.

I decided to get drugs for the cats, knowing full well that Emma and Caleb would be shitheads on the three day drive. It seemed simple. One pill every four to six hours, bada bing bada boom, problem solved…or was it?

The car was packed full, so one cat carrier was placed on top of the mound in the backseat, and the other on Courtney’s lap. Despite being a bit cramped, the first few hours were great. The cats were knocked out, and Courtney and I finally had time to relax. It was in Fargo North Dakota when our luck began to change.

Nothing like a bag of Cheetos after a stressful day!

Emma woke up, letting us know how angry she was, meowing nonstop (suicide seemed like a viable option). Bismarck, our stop for the night, was still a few hours out, so it seemed logical to give Emma another pill, right? WRONG! While Courtney attempted to slip the pill down her throat, Emma chomped down on the pill, quickly transforming her into a CAT FROM HELL!

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