We got a new cat a couple weeks ago.
You know the little boy who sees a lonely animal on the street or in a park or downtown at a cafe or tied up on a leash on someone’s front porch, falls in love with it and brings it home to mom with a plaintive, “Can I keep it?”
Well, those boys eventually grow up; I married one of them so I know.
Like I said, we got a new cat the other day.
It was a week before Halloween and Rich and I were celebrating our friend Laura’s birthday at this trendy restaurant when we saw this scrawny (and dirty) – but cute and friendly – black cat on the sidewalk in downtown San Jose. The thing was skin and bones, was begging for food from people and instinctively went to Rich for attention.
I counted the seconds until Rich turned to me and asked. “Can we take it home?”
I said no. I always say no. I said no – repeatedly – as I’ve done for the past five years.
But somehow over the past five years, we still ended up bringing home Joey (the only dog in the bunch) and Taffy anyway. (Boris was here before I arrived, but he has given me permission to stay – as long as he is allowed to sleep on my head at night.)
And as of a few days ago, now we have Toby, the scrawny black cat.
Like I said, I told Rich no. No. We have way too many pets using the cat box I have to clean already.
Then Nicole, a supposed friend, who was with us out on the town that night, turned to me and said, “Do you know what people do to stray black cats on Halloween?”
Ugh. No wasn’t the right answer anymore. Now, if we didn’t take the cat home, I’d be a murderer.
So, now I have another cat – that makes three cats, one dog and a Husband.