I, or rather we–me and the kids–, rescued this little ball of energy from certain death. He was hiding under the hood of my car. The litter mate wasn’t so lucky. It had gotten run over two days before, infront of our house. Not a pretty picture. And neither would Tuesday’s have been either if I had started the car.
Upon rescuing the ungreatful creature, it scratched the tarnation out of me and bit me twice….hard. My finger was swollen for days after. Stupid cat.
Only days later, once the kitten calmed down, did I realize that we had been calling it a ‘she’. Well I never thought to look to see if it really was a ‘she’. Turns out that ‘Tuesday’ isn’t actually a ‘Tuesday’ but a ‘Thursday’. Now we have to come up with a new name for him. So far we’ve tried: Monroe, Grady, Spaz, It, Mr. Kitty, Stupid Cat ( my choice), and my hubby’s favorite… Gone.
Oh, by the way, did I mention that the neighbor girl wanted the cat? Begged me, she did. I told her sure; she could have it. I need another cat like I need a hole in the head. Only her mother had other ideas. And now the cat is in limbo. Which translates into: I guess we’re keeping the darn thing. Stupid cat!
***** The debate has been settled. The cat’s new name is officially ‘Milo”. Hubby came up with it.*****