I once brought home a cat to my college apartment.
Here it is, asleep in a box.
I was riding my bike to the grocery store to pick up a couple of things so that I could make something wonderfully tasty, I'm sure. I was about to enter the store when I spotted a little cat hiding among the shopping carts. So I snatched up that cat and left with it, foregoing my grocery shopping. I wrapped it in my jacket and put it in my bike basket, and I peddled away.
This bike basket:
That cat was dirty. In fact I couldn't quite handle the smell for fear of losing my lunch. So I put the cat in a box (see top picture), and waited for Robert (who I was dating at the time) to come over after his classes. Robert helped me wash it in the kitchen sink. (Robert doesn't even like cats.) I played with it for a while, but it was a little ornery and floosy and inappreciative of my hospitality. I think it preferred the life of a vagrant. So I let it go.
Can you tell I sometimes struggle to find things to blog about?
Can you tell I sometimes struggle to find things to blog about?
1 comment:
. . . at least you post. I can see on the right-hand side of your blog that I am the worst! 3 months since my last entry.
Your last entry reminded me so much of another little girl I once knew who brought home every stray she found. I had one that looked very much like yours, only she turned out to be a gem. I named her Muffin but everyone called her "kitty"
I better go post . . .
Post a Comment