One of Cindy’s real cats, Molly, has been a little on edge lately. She’s constantly galloping through the house, leaping to the top of the fridge, and from there to the cupboards to look down at the rest of us.
Because I’m such an extraordinarily nice guy, I had a little chat with her to find out what the trouble is.
Turns out, she’s worried. See, in June three years ago, my alter ego, Snickers died at the ripe old age of 21. This left Molly and her sister, Misty, to get all the attention around the house. And Molly was quite happy with this arrangement. In August, Cindy’s family packed up the car, then drove away with their boy to someplace called college. He didn’t come back until Thanksgiving.
But here is the important part: A few weeks after the boy left, they brought home a kitten! A tiny little black and gold striped attention-stealing lap-hogger! It was a total cat-astrophe!
Now here’s where it really gets scary—this August Cindy’s family packed up the car again. Except this time neither their boy or their girl came home with them. So far, the pattern hasn’t continued with another new kitten. But I can’t blame Molly for being worried.
Of course, I didn’t say anything, but a kitten could be the least of her worries. What if they brought home a PUPPY instead?