Down the Road a Piece
Sammy moves in
We’ve adopted lots of cats and kittens in years past, but we’ve never seen one take over a house as fast as Sammy.
Every other cat or kitten we’ve taken in spent two or three days hiding somewhere out of sight and finally tiptoeing out to where he or she could keep a better eye on us. One “hid” on the hot water heater in the back kitchen, in plain sight but maybe out of sight in her mind. When she finally came out, she took over for awhile until we all got used to each other.
That was the one we had spotted in the yard of a “Christian” woman who was moving west to attend a Bible school of some type. When we asked her if she was taking the cat, she began to mumble. I don’t think it was speaking in tongues, as some believers practice.
We brought Jennipoo (her name was Jenny) home and she became a member of our household for about ten years until she finally died of a lack of youth. She died on the sofa next to where I was writing.
But this one was different. In fact, it took several members of our neighborhood to get her to our dooryard.
Which, as I drove in, is where I saw the two of them walking toward our door. I naturally assumed they were members of a cult, handing out literature for us to toss.
But then I recognized one as Mike, who lives just up the street, and with him was a college-age girl I didn’t recognize. I parked and realized then what was about to happen.
Mike was explaining that he would love to adopt this kitten, but his wife was away and he didn’t want her to return to a new kitten.
“Do you want to take her,” he asked Dolores, who stood a few feet away not daring to look too closely at the approximately eight-week-old brownish tiger with white in all the places that make humans fall in love with them.
I could see in Dolores’ hesitation that we had just gained a new family member.
On the ground, I spotted a large feather from one of the wild turkeys that visit us each day.
“I’ll give you that big turkey feather if we adopt her,” I said to Dolores.
(Our yard usually had turkey feathers here and there, and quite often the wild turkeys that had shed them. Tom had grown tired of watching them one day, and he chased one of the big birds. Surprisingly, it ran. Tom, at about 20 pounds, had proven that he was bigger than any wild turkey.)
“Why don’t you hold her a minute,” offered Samantha, the other neighbor who had brought the kitten to us because she was headed for college and couldn’t keep it.
Dolores took the kitten, held it against her cheek, and I knew we had a new “kid” in our family.
This column has dribbled on far enough, so the real story of how Samantha (named for the girl who brought her to us) took over our household will be...
Next week, if there’s anything left of our household by then.
Hint for next week, Sammy became Wicked.
Milt Gross can be reached for corrections, harassment, or other purposes at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Milton M. Gross Copyright 2014