Litter


Compassion for a stray was just the beginning.
After a significant amount of sorrowful me-owwiiinnnggg,
We looked at each other, then at ‘it’; you dropped a lip and offered a pitiful eye.

I said, “I wonder where it came from”?
You lost your heart in its eyes and ‘purred’, “. . . they’re so piercing green – and I love the jet black”!

“She’s acting ‘weird’ today”, was the message you sent one morning while I was at the office.
“What do you mean ‘weird’” I said?
“I think she’s pregnant”!
“Oh that’s just great isn’t it! Where are we going to find room for a banged-up momma and some dirty little in-breeds”?

“How can you say that? I hate when you talk like that. It’s not like it will cost much to look after them and help them get new homes. Besides, who says they’re less important than polar bears or white rhinos? We give them free homes AND protection”!

“Ok, OK . . . maybe just for a bit until we can farm them off to someone else . . . Do you think she has the mange? It’s hard to tell through all that blackness. We need to get her checked for fleas and stuff. Anyway, polar bears are rare – stray cats are ten a penny”.

“One is out!!! And here comes another! Poor momma – it must hurt and she’s just a baby herself. I wonder what heartless bastard kicked her out onto the street all banged up with a litter”?

“How many now”?

“Five! Fiiiiive!!!”

“What do they look like”?

“Oh my goodness they are the most precious things I ever saw – jet black; just like the momma”!

“I love that you care so much for the strays in life – reminds me of when we met and you took me in . . . meeeeoooooowwww”.

“There’s room for everyone”.

“Maybe there is. Maybe there is”.

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