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Here, Kitty-Kitty …
By Scott Harrup | February 29, 2008
She found her way into our garage during a recent winter ice storm, then ran into the house when I opened the door to the garage. She’s been living with us ever since.
After canvassing a stretch of our neighborhood for possible owners, Jodie took Alex (or Kit-Kat, or Kitty, or whatever—she ignores all names equally) to the vet for an array of maintenance medical procedures. Our children desperately prayed no one would show up to claim her. I joined their prayers. With the cost of various shots, de-worming, de-clawing and de-reproducing procedures, I shuddered to think I could be underwriting everything for another owner.
Not to mention what a civil suit might cost if said owner was intent on breeding an obviously superior specimen of American Stray. With juries awarding millions in damages over spilt coffee, there’s no telling what a pair of missing cat ovaries could cost me.
I haven’t had a cat since the sixth grade, haven’t had one I really liked since about the third, and have maintained a one-pet rule in our home. As long as Suki, our Lhasa apso, was breathing, the Harrup household was to be a strict no-immigration zone.
But in the middle of an ice storm my defenses evaporated when this near-frozen feline shot through the door into our living room and began purring the instant I picked her up.
You’re not the kind of guy who would put me out in the cold, are you?
I guess I’m not.
She’s made herself at home throughout the house, including at the makeshift litter box in the basement bathroom. Our exhaust fan has come close to melting. Pound for pound, Kitty trumps anything the Defense Department has in the way of a biological weapon. Nerve agents, anthrax, sarin gas — these are toys compared to the festering lethal compounds she buries in that box.
Of course, moi is the primary kitty litter changer. I’m thinking of checking E-Bay for a haz-mat suit.
Reviewing this whole unforeseen adoption process, I’ve taken a closer look at my sense of priorities. Here I am going out on a limb to rescue a lost cat, and spending more hard-earned cash on her than I have on any number of worthy charities lately.
With my family’s happiness as my primary motivation, the sacrifice is not entirely unwarranted. All the same — if I’m willing to do this for a lost lump of fur God brings across my path, what should I be willing to do the next time He confronts me with a fellow human’s need?
I’m thinking about that one.
Topics: Family Life |
February 29th, 2008 at 6:22 pm
I’m thinking about that one myself.-Bryan Darrell
February 29th, 2008 at 11:41 pm
Happiness is a warm kitten!