RSSIf only Tu-tu were mine.
Feb 23
Uncategorized I am pathetic, kittens and puppies and sunshine, orange and white fuzzballs, Tu-tu Comments Off
Being sick sucks. It’s uncomfortable and miserable. But, it also means a lot of time on the couch, which has its perks. And guilt-free movie watching. So, tonight, as I was perfecting my couch potato form and watching one of those guilt-free flicks, I heard the most pitiful mewing. I hauled myself off the couch and went to look out the window. No cat. I opened my door. No cat. I decided to venture further out, and one flight down there was the cutest kitten I have ever seen. Just look at this face: 
I carried her up to my apartment, making plans for a “did you lose your kitten” poster and falling in love all at the same time. Of course, Nutmeg and Squishy were not pleased with the interloper’s presence. The kitten wasn’t thrilled either, and outdid both the adult cats with a display of fuzziness and hisses. But we settled down a little as I thought about what to do and who the cat might belong to.
I decided to knock on the door of the one family I knew who owned a cat. Of course, it was theirs, and I collected the little ball of fuzz and took it home, my heart breaking already. The owner informed me her name was Tu-tu, and the little part of me that I have to keep under lock and key so it doesn’t run wild through the SPCA and bring home all the stray animals started to cry. But I handed Tu-tu over and headed back to my couch, where Nutmeg and Squish were very relieved to find out that this had all been a very short-lived arrangement.
And now, even though I should be heading to bed, I’m not because I am terrified that the family doesn’t love the kitten, that they shoved it out the door trying to get rid of it and every time I hear a door open, I peer out like a crazy woman to make sure Tu-tu isn’t back in the stairwell.
See, the woman didn’t seem particularly upset when I asked if they’d lost a kitten, didn’t seem relieved to have it back.
“It’s my daughter’s kitten,” she said. A scene played in my head of some sweet girl who loved her kitten and the poor, beleaguered mother who was tired of scooping the litter box, couldn’t afford the vet bills, was tired of the mewing, and saw an easy chance to just let little Tu-tu go.
“Oh, honey, Tu-tu must have run away,” I could hear her tell her daughter in the little movie in my head.
Because something in that woman’s voice and face didn’t say “I love this kitten and am so glad she’s back.” And I can’t understand how anyone could feel anything less than love for Tu-tu. Or for any other kitten or puppy or cat or dog.
Am I probably crazy? Yep. Does that family probably have a normal amount of like for the kitten, and it was late on a Monday night and the mom was tired and hadn’t yet realized the cat was missing. I hope so. Does part of me want to slip a note under the door offering to take Tu-tu if they’ve decided they don’t love her? You better believe it. But a bigger part of me says they’d think I was a nutso cat-napper.
Yes, I’ve accepted my fate as the crazy cat lady and general bleeding heart. And so I’ll sit here a little longer before I go to bed, even though I should already be asleep, and listen for the sound of doors opening and closing and the thin little mew of an abandoned kitten.
In other cat-related news, Nutmeg and Squish received a care package from their country cousin, Wallet. They were understandably thrilled and have already given their new toys a run for their money.
