Really, I had only come to look at the apartment — a colleague of mine was heading home to her family in the Southwest, and the place she had been living was purportedly much more pleasant and closer to work than where I was living at the time.
Come over and look at it! Sure. And I already knew the landlords, having met them several years earlier. Good people. Prone to traveling abroad, but that made perfect sense for their specialties. And they would provide me some gardening space, and access to a woodshop.
Oh, and you can see The Kittens! Um…okay. I can pet them and say they are adorable. I can do that much. Don’t know if I am in the adopting mood right now, but…
I’d actually heard about the kittens before; my colleague had mentioned catching a pregnant alley cat — one barely out of kittenhood herself — and trying to hand-tame her before the kittens arrived, hoping that even if Mom stayed pretty wild, the kittens would be adoptable. I knew there were four kittens. I knew that I’d gotten so far as imagining what it would be like to have a cat again — I imagined calling it “Allergen”, because I had so many friends with allergies to cats. But it was my friends with allergies who were starting to advocate for me having a cat, which seemed strange, but incredibly kind of them. I’d had a rough few years, and the new apartment was supposed to be the transition to something new; a new job, a fresh start on a different path…
You sure you don’t want a kitten? There are three to choose from — One I’m bringing back with me for my parents… There were four kittens in a large wire rabbit cage, tumbling around each other. Calico, patches, black…fluff. Let’s look at the apartment first, shall we?
Read Full Post »