Thursday, June 5, 2008

Cats: you breed 'em, we'll feed 'em

We have a cat hotel in the garage. Most people don't. When we rescued a colony of cats for neutering and relocation years ago, we had several hutches against the back wall of the garage. One remains for the odd injured animal or feral cat that we'll relocate to a willing dairy farmer. One night a couple years ago, I was at a party and the house caught on fire. That's a whole different story about how quickly a fire spreads and how I don't burn candles and how I, a mere visitor, was the only one to go back for the fire extinguisher, but I digress.

I ended up taking their cat home with me for a short visit.

This weekend, friends have asked for use of the cat hotel because their daughter has a cat she doesn't pay attention to and they are leaving for the weekend. I hate this for the cat. She's super sweet and she talks all the time because she's lonely. I think if we found a home for her, they wouldn't mind. How sad.

I was playing with her a few minutes ago. I gave her some treats and then some catnip and she bit my pinkie! The garage is hot & humid, so letting her rub against my face means accepting a bunch of cat hair stuck to me. There's a fan blowing, and it helps. The big cat in town, Roscoe, knows she's out there and since he's the girl-cat wrangler around here, he sits on the bottom step by the garage door and looks into the garage. Knowing him, he'd offer to let her come upstairs, lick her face and snuggle for a while. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?

Jack, I'm glad to know you have the CD and that you're enjoying it. Thanks for letting me know.

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