In previous blogs I have described my wife’s soft heart. Well, here she goes again. Miss Sugar went to the vet’s office with our dogs and came home with a cat.
Apparently, the cat was in a cage in the lobby with a sign on the cage about its need for a new home. The story written about the cat was that it had been one of several in an apartment. An elderly man who owned the cats did not neuter them, which resulted in litters of kittens. He has been diagnosed as suffering from Alzheimer’s Disease. A daughter of his from out of town discovered the situation and rescued the cats.
So Miss Sugar brought a cat home. We have had cats before. Those were known as “barn cats.” They came and went as they pleased. They were not afforded the benefit of Christian burial.
This cat does not reside in the barn. Presently, it resides in a screened porch equipped with a toilet facility, food, water, and a brand new special kitty bed selected by Miss Sugar. When cold weather arrives, I wonder if it will move into the house. As I understand the line of command, that particular decision is not within my limited jurisdiction.
The cat has a name, I just don’t recall it as of this writing. Let’s say it is Simba.
Simba is fortunate to have met Miss Sugar. Things would have turned out differently for it if I had been the one taking the dogs to the vet clinic.