Remember the kittens? (you can refresh your memory. go here and then here) I always see them running around the neighborhood. Hair uncombed. No shoes. Or even mittens. Looking like it's been days since their last meal.
Sometimes I feel like responding to Momma Cat with a little letter of my own. Sure her cats are growing up and almost out of her house, but what kind of citizens are they turning out to be? They totally roam the neighborhood at ALL hours of the day. In and out of people's yards. On their fences. Rummaging in their garbage.
I guess she really cut me deep when she wrote to me last. I think she must have put a curse on our lawn. We planted our winter rye grass and it is really struggling to grow. The shed is still a mess, but you know what? I have kids to raise- hair to comb, shoes to put on little feet. I just can't bother with a broken door. But my children are happy and well-fed.
I haven't found her blog yet. But then, I haven't really tried to find it. Just don't know if I could handle whatever it is she might say about me. So, I try to steer clear of the feline blog section. So far, so good.
Anyway, I just wish her the best. Raising children is hard. It takes a village, you know. I wonder if her village is helping. Because I'm pretty sure her Tom Cat isn't. Poor little Momma Cat. Maybe that letter was her way of reaching out.
Momma Cat, I hope you read this (and I think you probably follow my blog because there are a few unfamiliar url's on my sitemeter). You have my sincerest meow. Take it for what it's worth. And good luck with the kiddies. (get it? kiddies. like kitties, but kiddies. get it? funny, i know. i crack myself up- all the time.)