We've had a little bit of snow here in SmallTown. Not enough to make a snowman, but just enough to make you wish you could make a snowman.
Maggie is resting at my feet in the warmth of blissdom. She has no idea how lucky she is. I almost brought home another cat yesterday.
When I picked up Maggie from the kennel, the vet told me about another old cat that a woman brought in to be put to sleep because she (the cat) was mean to her kids.
First of all, no cat is that mean. Second of all, no cat is that mean.
Of course, the vet is not going to put the poor old lady to sleep (the cat) and really would like to find her a home. He asked me if I would like to have her. I, in my rational mind, say "no, thank you."
HELLO, HAVE YOU MET THE CAT WHO ALREADY LIVES WITH ME?
The vet just wouldn't let up (i.e. he read "sucker for kitties" on my forehead.)
"Would you like to scratch her head before you leave?" he pursued.
So they brought her out and my heart sank. She was purr-ty.
"Those kids must have been really mean," he added.
The entire staff chimed in about how sweet this old lady cat was and how they could not imagine anyone wanting to put her down.
Then I looked at my daughter whom I've promised a puppy for our next pet and knew in my heart that I was not the one to take Old Lady Cat home.
Then I scratched her head (the cat) again and made sure that the vet was not going to put her down ever. He promised.
My rational self left the building with a big soft spot in her heart and drove home, with Maggie snoring in the backseat.
Yep. She doesn't know how lucky she is.