Boy had spent the weekend at his friend’s home “in the country”, where he met Puss. She was born a barn cat, part of a litter of nine. Apparently, she fell in love with him the moment they met and after eight weeks, he brought her home. Out pops this little girl face from a purple duffle bag, “Can I keep her? Puhleeeeze?” And so Puss moved in during the summer of ’95.
After all these years, I truly believe that she did fall in love with him the moment she met him. She picked him as her boy, he didn’t pick her as his cat. She truly loved him more than anything on this Earth.
1 response so far ↓
1 Valerie // Mar 30, 2010 at 11:13 am
You’re exactly right. They choose US, not the other way around. Mickey was living with my sister; they’d wanted a mouser but she wasn’t doing her job. She hopped up into my lap and promptly fell asleep. I took her home that day. We never saw a single mouse in the house, but she’d leave them outside the front door for me.
Of course Puss was happy. She grew up with a great Boy. When he moved out, she had her own room that she graciously shared with me when I visited. Her best (four-legged) friend was a guinea pig. She brought you chipmunks as presents (remember, it’s the thought that counts) and always let you know you weren’t alone.
You gave her new places to explore and new things to discover. What a great life!
Hugs to you, sweetie. Love you!
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