Stowaway
Yesterday, while I was at work, my sister-in-law came to pick up the kittens. I was slightly saddened at the prospect of not having a house full of preciouscutesweetness when I came home, but I know that preciouscutesweetness grows up into crapsonyourlivingroomcarpet, and I’ve already got two of those.
I walked into the bathroom where the kittens were housed and flipped on the light, amazed to see that she had not only cleaned the floor, but washed and put away the towels, and even scrubbed the toilet. Alex stood behind me as I stood still for a moment, amazed at how thoughtful this woman was… when I heard a small, distinct sound from behind Alex’s bath toy box.
“Mew!”
“Oh, crap…” I uttered.
“Crap,” Alex repeated…
“Don’t say that!” I barked as I moved the box to find a tiny gray kitten looking up at me with terrified blue eyes. As I lifted it gently, it cried loudly. “MEW!”
I sighed as I pulled out my phone… was this a clever ploy to get me to keep one? But since they have not been weaned from their mother, I knew she must have just missed one. All weekend, I caught myself counting them to make sure they were all there; it can happen. I could tell the frightened kitten was starving, because it kept digging it’s piercing little kitty teeth into my finger.
“Stop it!” I said through clenched teeth, holding the tiny gray furball in front of me.
“MEW!” he answered in defiance.
We ended up taking the tiny stowaway with us to the park, where Alex’s uncle handled the trade-off. But before he showed up, the small pile of gray fur nuzzled down in the crook of my elbow and fell asleep. As I looked up at Alex playing on the playground, I thought about how quickly time has passed, and how it seems like yesterday when she was curled up against me much the same way as the kitten was now.
How quickly they grow up.