Compassion for a stray was just the beginning.
After a significant amount of sorrowful me-owwiiinnnggg,
We looked at each other, then at â€˜itâ€™; you dropped a lip and offered a pitiful eye.
I said, â€œI wonder where it came fromâ€?
You lost your heart in its eyes and â€˜purredâ€™, â€œ. . . theyâ€™re so piercing green â€“ and I love the jet blackâ€!
â€œSheâ€™s acting â€˜weirdâ€™ todayâ€, was the message you sent one morning while I was at the office.
â€œWhat do you mean â€˜weirdâ€™â€ I said?
â€œI think sheâ€™s pregnantâ€!
â€œOh thatâ€™s just great isnâ€™t it! Where are we going to find room for a banged-up momma and some dirty little in-breedsâ€?
â€œHow can you say that? I hate when you talk like that. Itâ€™s not like it will cost much to look after them and help them get new homes. Besides, who says theyâ€™re less important than polar bears or white rhinos? We give them free homes AND protectionâ€!
â€œOk, OK . . . maybe just for a bit until we can farm them off to someone else . . . Do you think she has the mange? Itâ€™s hard to tell through all that blackness. We need to get her checked for fleas and stuff. Anyway, polar bears are rare â€“ stray cats are ten a pennyâ€.
â€œOne is out!!! And here comes another! Poor momma â€“ it must hurt and sheâ€™s just a baby herself. I wonder what heartless bastard kicked her out onto the street all banged up with a litterâ€?
â€œHow many nowâ€?
â€œWhat do they look likeâ€?
â€œOh my goodness they are the most precious things I ever saw â€“ jet black; just like the mommaâ€!
â€œI love that you care so much for the strays in life â€“ reminds me of when we met and you took me in . . . meeeeoooooowwwwâ€.
â€œThereâ€™s room for everyoneâ€.
â€œMaybe there is. Maybe there isâ€.