Or maybe just a softie. I’m ruining my reputation. Sigh
Yesterday my husband told me that a cat had been sleeping on the septic cover. He said, “she looks hungry, but we’re not keeping her.”
Last night, she showed up in the front yard. I went out, sat down, tossed treats to her – dog treats because that’s all we had – and within 5 minutes, she was up the hill and rubbing her head on me. I fed her cheese and treats, and we got a cup of dog kibble and she gobbled it down. And then rubbed against us – both me and the man who insisted we’re not going to keep her, while every other sentence involved how we were going to have to take her to the vet, and get the dog to accept her and by the way, we’re not keeping her.
We let Max out and he chased her into the woods. But she came back this morning. He chased her again. She came back tonight and got supper – I bought kitty food – she’s a baby, tiny, starving, but so pretty. She talks to me. She meows and purrs and rubs against me, and she’s completely breaking my heart.
Max hates her. He chased her again tonight.
I came in and washed the dishes and cried – and called myself a silly sentimental old fool.
Today is my mother’s birthday. She hated cats. I keep thinking, “DId you send this cat to me? But you HATED cats!”
And by the way, we’re probably going to keep her. If we can ever get Max to not want to eat her.