Loved reading about him wondering about the purpose of cats/kitties. As a mom of three kitties and one dog . . . all of whom wandered into my backyard like the hobo(s) of the Great Depression . . . and who all had sad stories and finagled their way into my heart and home . . . I do want to read “What’s a Dog’s Purpose.” They know, so do, cats, and I owe a big one to my beloved feral kittie. Pretty Girl, so named by me, because her lackluster owner who abandoned her, called the torie shell cat, with one lopped ear (to show she’d been in a feral litter), “Speckles”. How could this poor creature have a good self-image with that background? So I named her Pretty Girl, and after leaving food on the front porch for her after her owner/neighbor moved away, saying, “Oh, she’s too hard to catch.” Then drove off. Speckles/Pretty Girl, not trusting any one, took the food from the bowl on the front porch then would disappear. One day, I was in my backyard, my back door left open. When I came inside, Speckles/new Pretty Girl was asleep under my coffee table. Apparently, she had vetted me out, decided I was “okay” and moved in.
2 Comments
Pat Harrington
Loved reading about him wondering about the purpose of cats/kitties. As a mom of three kitties and one dog . . . all of whom wandered into my backyard like the hobo(s) of the Great Depression . . . and who all had sad stories and finagled their way into my heart and home . . . I do want to read “What’s a Dog’s Purpose.” They know, so do, cats, and I owe a big one to my beloved feral kittie. Pretty Girl, so named by me, because her lackluster owner who abandoned her, called the torie shell cat, with one lopped ear (to show she’d been in a feral litter), “Speckles”. How could this poor creature have a good self-image with that background? So I named her Pretty Girl, and after leaving food on the front porch for her after her owner/neighbor moved away, saying, “Oh, she’s too hard to catch.” Then drove off. Speckles/Pretty Girl, not trusting any one, took the food from the bowl on the front porch then would disappear. One day, I was in my backyard, my back door left open. When I came inside, Speckles/new Pretty Girl was asleep under my coffee table. Apparently, she had vetted me out, decided I was “okay” and moved in.
Best thing in the world for her and me.
Pat H.
boomermuse
Pat, thanks for sharing your formerly feral story about Pretty Girl. We have a big soft spot here for ferals.