No matter what he says, it really is all Bert's fault that we have a stray kitten living under our side porch. He's the one who heard a funny squawking noise outside our bedroom window last Friday and asked me to check it out. Granted, he's not the one who fed it or named it or made it a bed out of beach towels, but still... What was I supposed to do? Let it starve, call it "kitten", and make it sleep in the dirt? (Nix the last bit. She prefers the dirt.) Let me introduce you to Alberta.

I have a habit of assuming female cats are male - Nora was originally Norris - so our stray started out as Albert - after Bert, of course - until she sat still enough for me to...uh...check. Surprise! It's a girl! Bert and I are resisting (with various degrees of unsuccess) her feline charms and praying she's just wandered a bit far from home. I put up on ad on Craigslist, but no responses so far. Bertie seems quite capable of taking care of herself and I wouldn't worry about her so much except for the fact that she is definitely nearing (if not already past) the 'spay-able age.' So the question is quickly becoming: do we want one kitten now or six kittens down the line?
Nora, for one, would prefer no kittens ever. If anyone looking for a new pet? Nora will be indebted to you forever.

No comments:
Post a Comment