We had a little visitor this week. A visitor that seemed like it was about to overstay its welcome, and then as quickly as it came into our lives, it chose to move on. To where, no one knows.
We had a white kitty show up at our door about 10 days ago. Since we never knew the gender of the cat, I will heretofore refer to kitty as “she” to avoid the annoying he-slash-she thing. She followed me around the yard, followed the kids, let you pick her up, and rub her belly. She had a red rhinestone collar around her neck, so I knew she had to have belonged to someone around the neighborhood, so took her eager friendliness as just happenstance. Although curiously she seemed a little dirty, a little hungry and very thirsty when I gave her some water. I had no cat food to provide as our earlier cat had passed some 9 months ago and I had none leftover.
As the day ended, we petted the kitty goodbye once we returned inside the house for dinner, and while we were curious about this little kitty, we didn’t think much more about our little playmate for the day.
Until she returned the next day. And the day after that. And after that.
Soon I found myself letting her in the house. Then dashing to the store for cat food. I wondered to myself if I really wanted a cat, things in life are a bit confusing right now, and did we need this disruption? So we posted flyers around the neighborhood about a “found cat” with a picture of her in conspicuous places like street sign posts, and telephone posts at corners of busy intersections. The kids and I thought it was important to give it a try to find the kitty’s original family, all the while developing an ever-increasing affection for this new stranger in our lives. I found myself secretly hoping I would never get a phone call in response to the flyers.
So we bought it a flea collar. And some cat toys. And the cat seemed to be, well, really fitting in and liking its newly adopted family. Since I hadn’t yet made the investment in a litterbox, we developed a routine that it would stay in the house or close to it during the day, and I would let it out at night. It seemed to work, and the cat seemed to respond, as for 7 consecutive mornings it diligently showed up at the door at 6am when I would wake up and let it back in the house for some morning munch.
And I’m sure you know by now how this story is going to end.
2 mornings ago, the kitty did not return at 6am. In my pajamas, I walked around the entire yard, up a few houses in the neighborhood, calling out “kitty!”, clapping my hands and hoping it would come out from under some car or bush or jump down from a tree. But it did not.
And it did not return at all the entire day.
Or the next morning.
Or the next day.
So, a cat food dish still lays on my kitchen floor full of food in anticipation that the friendly, white stranger who entered our lives will return. As the days go on, I’m guessing she will not. But it’s funny how fate works out when something unexpected lands on your door. When you think you don’t want it, it goes away and then you miss it.
Something tells me a trip to Cat Welfare is in our future.
We had a white kitty show up at our door about 10 days ago. Since we never knew the gender of the cat, I will heretofore refer to kitty as “she” to avoid the annoying he-slash-she thing. She followed me around the yard, followed the kids, let you pick her up, and rub her belly. She had a red rhinestone collar around her neck, so I knew she had to have belonged to someone around the neighborhood, so took her eager friendliness as just happenstance. Although curiously she seemed a little dirty, a little hungry and very thirsty when I gave her some water. I had no cat food to provide as our earlier cat had passed some 9 months ago and I had none leftover.
As the day ended, we petted the kitty goodbye once we returned inside the house for dinner, and while we were curious about this little kitty, we didn’t think much more about our little playmate for the day.
Until she returned the next day. And the day after that. And after that.
Soon I found myself letting her in the house. Then dashing to the store for cat food. I wondered to myself if I really wanted a cat, things in life are a bit confusing right now, and did we need this disruption? So we posted flyers around the neighborhood about a “found cat” with a picture of her in conspicuous places like street sign posts, and telephone posts at corners of busy intersections. The kids and I thought it was important to give it a try to find the kitty’s original family, all the while developing an ever-increasing affection for this new stranger in our lives. I found myself secretly hoping I would never get a phone call in response to the flyers.
So we bought it a flea collar. And some cat toys. And the cat seemed to be, well, really fitting in and liking its newly adopted family. Since I hadn’t yet made the investment in a litterbox, we developed a routine that it would stay in the house or close to it during the day, and I would let it out at night. It seemed to work, and the cat seemed to respond, as for 7 consecutive mornings it diligently showed up at the door at 6am when I would wake up and let it back in the house for some morning munch.
And I’m sure you know by now how this story is going to end.
2 mornings ago, the kitty did not return at 6am. In my pajamas, I walked around the entire yard, up a few houses in the neighborhood, calling out “kitty!”, clapping my hands and hoping it would come out from under some car or bush or jump down from a tree. But it did not.
And it did not return at all the entire day.
Or the next morning.
Or the next day.
So, a cat food dish still lays on my kitchen floor full of food in anticipation that the friendly, white stranger who entered our lives will return. As the days go on, I’m guessing she will not. But it’s funny how fate works out when something unexpected lands on your door. When you think you don’t want it, it goes away and then you miss it.
Something tells me a trip to Cat Welfare is in our future.
Bye, bye Kitty
