"We found a kitten last night. Someone abandoned it by the road. It's so young, maybe only a few weeks old," Amp&Effects tells me.
"Did you take it in?" I ask.
"Well, yes, but we can't keep it. The apartment won't let us have pets," he explains. "We're going to find someplace to take her."
"So you have a cat now." I'm impressed. I've set myself a two-cat limit which I've managed not to exceed, ever, except when cat-sitting for a friend. Does this make me mean, or just rational?
"No, we have to find her a home. She's really too young to be away from her mother though." His eyes are wide as he gets mildly irate about the separation of kitten and mom-cat.
"Is she eating okay? Did you get her some kitten food? I think they make kitten formula milk too now," I say.
"Yeah, we got kitten food, and we're giving her milk."
"Could she drink okay?"
"We-ell. She didn't but then I pushed her face in the bowl and then she did."
I imagine a surprised kitten licking milk off its nose. Very cute. "So you have a cat now."
"Oh, no. We can't have a cat at the apartment."
He has a cat now, whether he admits it or not. "Mm-hm. So, what color is she?"
"She's all black. And so little she can sit on the palm of your hand." He holds out his hand, palm up, and we picture a tiny, round-tummied feline seated thereon. It purrs and tries to wash the tip of its tail.
"Aww." I had a black kitten when I was a kid. I named it Timmy. "So, what did you name her?"
He looks at his feet and smiles sheepishly. "Hailey," he says in a small voice.
Sucker. Dude has a cat.
305 words | July 10, 2004 07:14 PM | Felis Major