I think I can explain the weird weather around here. You know, the reports of possible snow tomorrow – May 22nd – in Boise. I think hell might have frozen over. Yeah. That’s right. We got a kitten.
Sweet Pea has been lobbying for a cat since, well…the womb I think. She really amped it up this year around her birthday. Not in a whiny/beggy kind of way. More like a, “if I say my prayers and use all my wishes to ask for a kitten I just know one will magically appear” kind of way. It was tragic really. Because, as you may have heard me exclaim more than once over the years, we are not cat people. I mean, clearly. We have a dog. And not some yappy little purse puppy either. We gots us a huntin’ dog. That’s right. She weighs 80 pounds, and she likes to swim, she doesn’t like to be outside, she wants to sleep on the bed, she chases flies, and she likes to curl up in my lap every night while I watch the teevee…Oh. Ok, wait. She really is a dog.
So anyway. The other day my neighbor tells me that she found this stray kitten. Of course he is absolutely adorable and sweet. Of course he is already potty trained and really mellow. OF COURSE she can’t keep him, and the no kill shelter is full…
Mr. G tried really hard to play the “if you think it’s a good idea, then go ahead” card. But I would not let him. I just can’t handle the guilt of a bad pet decision resting squarely on my shoulders.
Let me tell you how that bit me in the butt. Sweet Pea has been telling everyone that it was all his idea. That’s right. Her Daddy decided she should have a kitten because of how he loves her SOOOO much, and he knew it would make her SOOO happy. Isn’t that just great? I bat my eyelashes, and make certain promises, and swear that he will never have to go near the littler box, and he gets the Parental Medal of Honor.
And if that is not even bad enough, the kitten also thinks that Mr. G is just fanfreakintastic. Nevermind that I spent a whole day of my life picking out the most soothing litter box colors, and researching the best cat food. Nevermind that I am the one who got up 5 times the first night to help him find the potty. NEVERMIND that I saved him from a lifetime of being named Sparkle Bella. The little stinker likes Mr. G the best.
I think that it’s a mutual admiration society though. Mr. G seems a little kitten smitten. Proof positive – this picture and a whole bunch of others that he has been snapping of the newest member of our clan.