The lying game....cat family vacations

In our house, we don't lie. We talk about telling the truth versus a 'story' (a little kinder that a lie, right?) As a matter of fact, my sweet husband can't tell a story...he's got a serious 'tell' (Don't worry B, your secrets safe with me ;) ), when I was younger and I tried to lie, I would turn bright red and my story would crumble. So, of course as a parent we preach telling the truth, but today it all came crashing down today. I lied to Avery. And it broke my heart. Let me back this up a bit...Avery turned three in October, and we (I) wanted to get her something special- A CAT!! I begged and pleaded with Blake, I even got Blake's parents to rally my cause. And, because he loves us, he said ok. YEA!! A CAT A CAT! I love cats...I mean AVERY WILL LOVE A CAT. I went to the shelter and picked a good one Parker, a cute little tabby cat who had been adopted, but returned to the shelter because her owner lost her job. Cute cat, sad story? I'm sold. Parker initially was a great fit for the family, loved being here, loved the dog, loved curling up in AK's bed, even tolerated Baby Will- but I think it's only because he smelled like milk. But something wasn't quite right with PK (Blake and AK's nickname for her). PK won't use a litter box. Instead my house was her litter box, preferably my bed and drapes. Gross. I'll spare you further detail. So, I tried and tried, we went to the vet, new litter box, MULTIPLE litter boxes, antibiotics, probiotics, etc. One night, after sticking my toes into a wet spot on the bed, I lost my marbles and put her outside and grumbled something about not needing anymore bottoms to wipe. And outside she stayed. Blake claims this is the angriest he's ever seen me. We both started feeling guilty about it. It's cold, it's lonely, and we live on the corner of a busy street- she could get hit by a car. So, we decided to let her back in the house and put her in the garage when we left. But she still managed to make a few more house messes and we (I) decided we (I) couldn't do it anymore. So this morning I took her back to the Animal Village. I thought I would have no emotion, but I still burst into tears when they took her. And while I was crying, waiting to get her kennel back, I ran into a guy I went to elementary through HS with, who I haven't seen since HS. Although, I've know him since I was five, I figure this wasn't the first time he'd seen my sobbing (Most notably, in kindergarten when Russel Brixie pulled my pants down while I was reaching for my lunch box.). I called the 'cat lady' that works with the animal village and told her my whole, long story. Cried to her a little. She assured me she'd find PK a home. That she would get her out and play with her. But, she agreed it was the right thing to do for us. Then to pick up AK. What should I tell her? The truth? A story? Something in the middle? After polling the audience, I thought somewhere in the middle sounded good. I picked her up and we chatted about her day at school, what we were having for lunch, etc. All very lighthearted conversation. And when we pulled in the garage she started asking me where I though PK was. "Where's PK?" My heart started racing, my hands started sweating. What do I do? I can't lie to her! I said "PK isn't here, Avery." "Where is she?" Tears began to well up in her eyes. My heart sank. "She's not here, baby." Avery's quivery little voice, "We have to go get her! Where is she?" Come up with something fast, think, think, think! so I told her that we had only been keeping PK and until her cat family got back from vacation. And they were home now, and PK went home. I picked up my sobbing child and held her close. I hadn't imagined that such a little 'story' would hurt me so badly too. She cried in my arms for a while But, I know the truth was a far harder story to tell. It's hard to lie when I spend so much time trying to make sure the truth is told in our home. And I know she's only three, but it's important she knows I'm telling her the truth about things so she will trust me in the future. For now, my little story will have to do. I'm thankful Blake hasn't made me feel too bad about it, he could really rub it in that it wasn't his idea, he didn't want a cat, etc. And he let me make the decision to take her back. I'm thankful that little girl is so forgiving. I'm thankful she's young enough to not remember PK in a year. I'm thankful for the sweet lady at the animal shelter. I'm hopeful PK finds a good home. Thanks for letting me purge this terrible feeling. I'm hoping when AK wakes up from nap she'll have forgotten the whole bad story. And on the off chance you are looking for a cat. PK is available, 7 months old, spayed, not exactly little box trained, super sweet and friendly, and deserving of a good home where there is a little more patience.