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The Black Cat

December 28, 2006 | Category: In My Life

This morning when CD got up at dark o'clock and headed off to work, there was a young black cat in the driveway.

It purred and rubbed his legs and did just about everything it could to say "Hello! I'm tame! And hungry!'

This evening, when we returned from teh free Festival of Lights at Brookfield Zoo (amazing, pictures later) - it was baaaaaack.

It followed Bear up the front stairs and into the house. Like we wouldn't notice an extra furbot in the place.

Ah, well.

We fed it, and watered it, and patted it. Clearly someone's beloved pet, it is used to small children and was very timid and respectful to our Grand Old Dame, Maggie.

We decided to take a picture of it and try to find its owners.

But it wasn't spending the night IN our home, we agreed. Because first off, this is Maggie's House - full stop. She'd old and very unhappy that this little peppy black smudge of a thing wanted to play. Second of all, little smudge of a thing TALKS. A lot.

Up to me to put it out.

I carry it out to the front porch, give it a pat, and close the door. Turn around and it was standing in my living room.

Blinking at my so flirtatiously and purring like a motor.

I chased it down the hall, caught it, and tried again.

Yeah. This happened like 6 times.

My mother was having laughing conniptions by the time I finally managed to get me and the cat on opposite sides of the closed door.

Now it is out in my driveway under the window, screaming as I type this that it wants to come back IN.

Is it possible the ghost of Zazzoo has come back to adopt us?

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This happened to me once. We lost our beloved cat Bauer, and I mourned for weeks. Then one day when I was weeding my garden I heard an impossibly soft meow. Of course, I followed the sound and found a tiny precious abandoned baby kitty. His mother must have been the stray we had seen around our yard, but it was obvious he was starving and missing his mother.

I brought him in, made a frantic run to the store to get bottles and milk, and promised my husband we would find him a home when he was old enough.
I just didn't mention the home I had in mind was ours.

It is two years later, his name is Charlie, and I love him more than I ever thought possible.


Posted by: Melisa on January 1, 2007 10:29 AM

congratulations...you've just been adopted.

Unless someone comes knocking on your door looking for a little lost black cat, the kitty is yours.

I'd love to help you out but my own extremely talkative black kitty, his sister, and not to mention my husband, would be extremely put out if I offered to take yours in...I promised them all long ago that this would always be a 2-cat household.

Start thinking of names.

Posted by: laura on December 30, 2006 01:15 PM

awe...poor kitty. I can't imagine how he must have felt to be kicked back out.

Posted by: Eyes on December 30, 2006 11:49 AM

Hmmm. You showed it the inside of the house. You fed it. Loved it. Guess what? Unless you see a Missing Furball poster, it's yours! What, you don't want another cat? Too bad!

Posted by: Tammy on December 29, 2006 03:39 PM

Is the kitty still around today?

My first little black cat adopted me by getting through two closed doors and up two flights of stairs to my apartment's front door. Three times. After carrying her down the stairs and out the doors the first two times, I gave in on the third. She was with me for almost 19 years.

Sometimes they make the decisions for us.

Posted by: Kimberly on December 29, 2006 02:17 PM

Sounds like the little kitty has adopted you...it might be fruitless to fight it.

Posted by: Jenn on December 29, 2006 11:33 AM

Maybe this little cat is meant to join your family. I'm glad you've got a a plan for carving out time to write most days.

Posted by: momtowahid on December 29, 2006 08:25 AM