Here Kitty!

I love pets, especially cats.  Unfortunately, owning an actual pet is not really an option at the moment.  First off, we can’t really afford to properly take care of another creature.  Secondly, so many vicarages don’t allow pets that it would be irresponsible and selfish of us to get a pet we cannot take with us or oust another family with a pet they’ve had for years from a vicarage that would allow their furry companion to come with them.  So we’re patiently waiting for fourth year with the hopes of being able to take care of a pet by then (my husband wants a dog and I’m trying to convince him that a cat would be so much better).

On the positive side, the house we moved into has a couple of farm cats that like to hang around.  One is easily frightened and very unwilling to be held (we named her O.C.) but the other is extremely loving and cuddly (we named this one D.S.).  I’ve found myself already deeply concerned about the welfare of these cats–they get fed every morning, sometimes I give them table scraps at night, and I’ve even made on of our precious moving boxes into a little kitty bed to sit on the porch.  Yup, I’ve pretty much fallen in love with these felines.

So this morning when D.S. didn’t show up for breakfast I was mildly concerned.  When she didn’t show up when my husband left for class I started getting worried.  When she didn’t show up by 9:30 I started envisioning her little body on the road, demolished by a speeding car.  So I started walking around the yard calling, “Here D.S.!  Heeeeeeere kitty, kitty, kitty!”

After calling for about two minutes I saw a flash of white come scampering out of one of the barns, tail flicking back and forth.  She trotted up on the porch and I immediately scooped her up.  She then gave me the “I’m hungry so feed me already” meow.  She didn’t seem too upset by the fact that she was over three hours late.  She certainly wasn’t upset that she had worried me by her tardiness.  I went to get food for the little ingrate.

Such is the life of loving a cat.

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