Our six cats inside are peering out of the French doors in our den. I shouldn’t look outside because I know the drill all too well. I know I will see a stray cat. Sure enough, a darling black kitten is hunting in our backyard for some food–an insect, a scrap of food, anything probably and sadly would do.
It’s hard to see from my perch in the den whether the kitten is male or female, but I am putting the age at only four months. The kitten resembles the Kit-Cat character whose face graces the famous clock. That familiar recording in my head says, “turn a blind eye,” only because our veterinarian will kill me for wanting to rescue another cat. She says that ten is the magic, final number for our family, and that my husband and I are not permitted to adopt any more cats. However, she made an exception to her own rule several months ago after I rescued a young female cat and brought her to the vet's office for temporary boarding. I made a promise that I knew someone else would adopt her. It took me a month to fulfill that promise, and the cat and her new Cat Lady could not be happier.
Writing about this is empowering me. A Cat Lady has to pursue her calling, no matter when or where.
Query of the Day: Do I or Don’t I?