Yesterday my MIL gave me a cryptic message that she had something pretty to show me at her house. "Is it kittens?," I immediately asked. "Well, they're not kittens, they're cats," she said.
I should probably explain that my SIL has been doing something very good. Her MIL's house seems to be a dumping ground for strays. So, even though SIL can't afford it, she has been taking the cats to have them spayed/neutered and trying to find homes for them. She is paying for the entire spay/neuter out of pocket whenever she can save up enough money, even though her DH lost his job and they are facing tough times right now. The HS has been giving her a senior citizen's discount (I think $35.00 per cat) since her MIL is on Medicare. There are probably close to 14 strays hanging out at her MIL's house.
Well, these two cats are stunning. They are only about 6 months old, so still more kitten than cat. There was a red tabby, which I promptly named Big Red and a torti that looked like the very tip of her tail had been dipped in orange paint. Her tail looks like a lit candle. I named her Flame, and was debating about the name Yellow Tail after the drink. Doesn't really matter, since I am at my limit with four cats and can't have either of these, as much as I'd like to.
They refused to come out of the cat carrier, though both allowed me to pet them. The torti was so loving that she rubbed her face all over my hands.
Here's where the bad part comes in. When I went home I purposely let Daisy, Speck and Marshmallow smell my hands, so that they'd know I'd been around other cats. Speck made a face, Marshmallow is so sweet he didn't care, but Daisy was beside herself. She kept sniffing my hands and my shoes. I bragged to her that I'd been unfaithful and that I'd do it again. "Momma has been running around on you." I have to admit, I sort of rubbed it in. Then, still happy about being off from work and meeting kittens, I danced and sang the '70s disco song Boogie Nights to her. I'm not sure, but I don't think she was impressed.
A few minutes later, as I was getting ready to take a bath, Daisy came in and chomped me on the bare leg.
The moral of the story is, if you do something bad, no matter how wonderful it makes you feel, you might not want to rub it in to others.
I should probably explain that my SIL has been doing something very good. Her MIL's house seems to be a dumping ground for strays. So, even though SIL can't afford it, she has been taking the cats to have them spayed/neutered and trying to find homes for them. She is paying for the entire spay/neuter out of pocket whenever she can save up enough money, even though her DH lost his job and they are facing tough times right now. The HS has been giving her a senior citizen's discount (I think $35.00 per cat) since her MIL is on Medicare. There are probably close to 14 strays hanging out at her MIL's house.
Well, these two cats are stunning. They are only about 6 months old, so still more kitten than cat. There was a red tabby, which I promptly named Big Red and a torti that looked like the very tip of her tail had been dipped in orange paint. Her tail looks like a lit candle. I named her Flame, and was debating about the name Yellow Tail after the drink. Doesn't really matter, since I am at my limit with four cats and can't have either of these, as much as I'd like to.
They refused to come out of the cat carrier, though both allowed me to pet them. The torti was so loving that she rubbed her face all over my hands.
Here's where the bad part comes in. When I went home I purposely let Daisy, Speck and Marshmallow smell my hands, so that they'd know I'd been around other cats. Speck made a face, Marshmallow is so sweet he didn't care, but Daisy was beside herself. She kept sniffing my hands and my shoes. I bragged to her that I'd been unfaithful and that I'd do it again. "Momma has been running around on you." I have to admit, I sort of rubbed it in. Then, still happy about being off from work and meeting kittens, I danced and sang the '70s disco song Boogie Nights to her. I'm not sure, but I don't think she was impressed.
A few minutes later, as I was getting ready to take a bath, Daisy came in and chomped me on the bare leg.
The moral of the story is, if you do something bad, no matter how wonderful it makes you feel, you might not want to rub it in to others.