04 July 2012

She just appeared

as cats are wont to do around the parsonage.  It was many years ago, the fall of 1999.  The kids fed her.  We told them in no uncertain terms:  this cat is one we're not expending any money on.  She's an outside cat.  No shots.  No vet visits.  You get the idea. 

But then, of course, she became pregnant.  Kittens!  Ack.  And before we turned around, pregnant again.  MORE kittens!  So we relented to get her fixed.  We kept outside with her one of her daughters - she disappeared though earlier this year.  We have coyotes prowling near the parsonage... Enough said.  But still Cathy persisted.  And Bekah had an absolute fit at the thought of us leaving her behind.  We did leave her up there till we got back from Mexico and Elizabeth faithfully tended her.  But at last we brought her into the new house.  We were in dread of what an outside animal would do.  She was so old - no chance of really declawing her.  How would it work out?

Well, the wretch took over like she was the queen of the place.  She learned to use her litter box amazingly quickly.  She isn't the least bit bothered by the dog (they were both sleeping on the couch a while ago), and will even try to eat the dog's food (at which Lucy begins baying).  She doesn't seem to have an overwhelming desire to be outside, though she wants to go out when we are out on the deck.  She has been respectful of the furniture - not the first sign of clawing.

She's blind in one eye, her teeth are missing on one side, and her pretty calico coat is looking rather tattered.   Yet now she seems utterly content.  Just like it was meant to be.  Sigh. 

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