October 2010

Nearly three months ago, my husband and I went to our credit union to conduct some business.  As he waited in the car, I went inside.  Standing at the teller’s window I couldn’t help but notice the stifled but evident excitement around me. No. Sorry to say it wasn’t because of something great I was wearing or my new hairstyle. It was because another one of the employees was bringing in a bin of tiny kittens to bid one last goodbye before she took them to a “no-kill shelter.”   Uh-Oh. I knew I was in trouble. I knew that I would end up taking one of these babies home.  Having had two wonderful cats for over 14 years and lost them, I wasn’t inclined to try and replace them and their space in my heart. But this was certainly different.  These were the tiniest kittens I had ever seen.

Apparently the mother had delivered her litter somewhere in the bushes next to the credit union. The employees kept watch over them and when the mother went away for more than a day, they even attempted to feed them.  But one little black and white rascal wasn’t eating. I knew that if someone didn’t take her, who would be willing to hand-feed her every couple of hours, she wouldn’t make it—even at a no-kill shelter. So, I plotted with the employee to go out to the car with me so that I could show my husband the kittens.

As I approached my husband, and he was able to recognize what was coming out, you could see him bracing for the inevitable request. Before I could even make it to his open window he delivered a firm “No.”

The rest of the story… What the Cat Taught

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