The year I turned 13 was a rough year. In April, for some reason, my mother moved us from the house we had been living in to another one in a different part of Denver (actually Lakewood), with a different school. It's possible the house was condemned by the lumber yard that was next door and who owned the house, and old duplex. At any rate, while my mother had a habit of moving on a yearly basis, it was always in the summer.
So, we had to change schools with only about 3 months left in the school year.
One of the things we moved was a white kitten, about 12 weeks old, if I remember correctly. My mother didn't believe in a litter box and keeping cats indoors, so she let it out almost as soon as we arrived at the new house.
When it got dark, we couldn't find the kitten. Not too surprising, huh? But shortly before bedtime, there was a commotion outside and I saw the kitten jump up on the window sill. I ran outdoors, but by then it was gone. It looked panicked and possibly injured. We never saw it again.
I had forgotten that incident until just yesterday. Why? As I said, it was a rough year. My mother had left her third husband, and there was constant strife there. She wanted to move out of state, but her plans were thwarted when my sister told her father (the ex-husband). Because of those plans, we started school late, and I got crosswise to some of the bullies. Eventually, my mother attempted suicide.
That was my 7th grade year, and to this day, I don't know if I passed; we never got our final report cards, when my mother moved again.
The sudden memory of that terrified kitten came back to me yesterday, and I almost had to pull over from emotion.
So, we had to change schools with only about 3 months left in the school year.
One of the things we moved was a white kitten, about 12 weeks old, if I remember correctly. My mother didn't believe in a litter box and keeping cats indoors, so she let it out almost as soon as we arrived at the new house.
When it got dark, we couldn't find the kitten. Not too surprising, huh? But shortly before bedtime, there was a commotion outside and I saw the kitten jump up on the window sill. I ran outdoors, but by then it was gone. It looked panicked and possibly injured. We never saw it again.
I had forgotten that incident until just yesterday. Why? As I said, it was a rough year. My mother had left her third husband, and there was constant strife there. She wanted to move out of state, but her plans were thwarted when my sister told her father (the ex-husband). Because of those plans, we started school late, and I got crosswise to some of the bullies. Eventually, my mother attempted suicide.
That was my 7th grade year, and to this day, I don't know if I passed; we never got our final report cards, when my mother moved again.
The sudden memory of that terrified kitten came back to me yesterday, and I almost had to pull over from emotion.
