I was sitting at my desk yesterday morning when out of the corner of my eye I saw a kitten dart across our yard and under my car. I hauled ass outside, bent over next to the car, and cooed at the kitten to come to me. She toddled right over and let out the tiniest, most adorable squeak of a meow that I've heard since my dad and stepmom's cat Nigel was a little one.
How do all of these cats find me? First the tortoiseshell kitten and Black Kitty at the fail apartment, then Princess and Orange Boy Kitty here in base housing. Not to mention Coco. So before today my tally was two cats whose homes I've found, and two I've taken to animal control. Not bad. There was also a feral cat at the fail apartment who I never managed to catch before we moved out, but feral animals are another situation entirely.
The kitten spent the rest of the day exploring the house and sleeping under the bed in the office. I ended up working overtime yesterdary, so I didn't have the opportunity to run her over to the base vet to check for a microchip. She had a brand new collar on, so I knew she must be someone's and was probably vaccinated, so I kept her overnight. Our cats--Lola especially--took great offense to her extended stay and kept me up past 1 a.m. with their hissing and growling. She didn't care, she just wanted to play. When I got up this morning and headed to the kitchen to make Jason his coffee, she came running after me from who knows where. She spent the day chilling with me in the office and playing an epic game of chase with Jacob. Today was equally as hectic work-wise, so I figured I'd make a point of taking her to the vet tomorrow. And honestly, I was enjoying her company and her kitten-ness.
But then Jason came home. He brought in the mail and a hand-written sign that he found at the mailboxes. Black and white female kitten, seven months old, purple collar... sure enough. He called the number and left a message while I jumped in the shower. When I got out he was still waiting for a call back. I was drying off when the phone rang. The person was right down the street and was going to come over right then. She lived next door, in fact!
Guess who it was, you guys. JUST GUESS.
If you guessed Crazy Navy Wife, DING DING DING, you're the winner! We found out her first name, too, so now I can think of more nicknames for her.
I made Jason answer the door and give her back her kitten (whose name, incidentally, is Boots, due to her white paws). CNW was all thank yous and we missed hers and her tone of voice was in normal lady mode, but I know the evil lurking within her could strike at any moment. I listened from behind the bathroom door. My neighbor is Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde.
My mom is probably going to say that I should try to be friends with her since she was nice this time and we have a fondness of cats in common, but it doesn't work that way for me. I don't cast my lot with people who can't be level-headed, civilized human beings all the time, and I'm not one to hand out second chances like business cards. Part of the reason we left Massachusetts is because we needed to surround ourselves with stable people. Trust me: being fond of cats is not enough to make a friendship or any other kind of relationship work.