We’ve never had a shortage of cats. Our place isn’t quite the Caboodle Ranch, but we’ve fed our share of felines through the years…
Thanks to Emmy, who shows up on our steps one fine day. Tell me this: who can resist such a darling wee one, fuzzy and gray with green eyes wide as saucers staring back at you?
Her first litter of kittens is born in my daughter Abi’s lap while she’s watching cartoons on a Saturday morning. Others make their debut in the upstairs bathtub in the dead of winter.
When people ask why we don’t get her “fixed,” I tell them Emmy is Catholic – as are all our cats. And they don’t say another word. She was born to be fruitful and multiply.
We’ve always been lucky enough to find good homes for each and every litter (except for the ones we’ve kept). Don’t ask how many we’ve kept. I’ve lost count.
Trick or Treat!
On a Halloween night my daughter and I go out to a carnival. We dress up as dancers; Hannah is a princess ballerina and I’m a sassy flapper.
Dad stays home to mind the treat-or-treaters and hand out candy. He sits on the dark front porch by the glowing jack-o-lantern, kittens purring at his feet. Then a bright idea strikes him.
He remembers a birthday party from whence his daughter came home, bearing a strange kitten. Her friend Erin had distributed these little critters for party favors. Hey, not a bad idea after all…
Tonight he will delight a few trick-or-treaters with a prize kitten and a bag of Tender Vittles dropped in their pumpkin totes: a little something to get them started.
When we come home from the carnival and ask where the kittens might be, he looks just like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary.
Now it’s your turn to share a Halloween memory of your own. What did you wear? Who were you with? Where did you go? I look forward to seeing you in costume.