I Did Not Steal the Kitten
Oct. 16th, 2010 01:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
joyoI'm being inspired by several other people on my read-stuff-people-write list.
Here a life update:
I did not steal the kitten.
A month ago, we saw him for the first time, to our surprise sitting in a tree. On sighting us, he mewed down to us. TINY. KITTEN. MEWS. He was interested for a good 10 seconds, but then set about DEFEATING THE TREE with his fearsome kitten claws and teeth.
It made me happy (KITTEN TINY BLACK KITTEN). It made me sad (there shall be no kittens for Amy, for some time yet).
We saw him semi-regularly after that, warned by the tiny bell on his collar that he was stalking through the bushes AHA YOU HAVE GROCERY BAGS I WILL PERCH. Other times he bravely defeated my hand, realized it wasn't a actually a bird, and bounced off. Rambunctious, fearless, aloof. KITTEN.
On Thursday I had to make a run home for lunch. I heard the bell. It had been a couple weeks. Kitten, a month older and wiser, was stalking around the painters on the neighbouring terrace (we're in a cul-de-sac), saw me and GIANT BOX OMG WHAT IS IT I CAN BEAT IT LET ME TRY.
I greeted him in the usual fashion, and after he realized that the box was not in fact a giant bird and that I was still rather stubbornly not made of fish he went back to stalking the grass.
Except this time he followed me back to our side of cul-de-sac. I opened the door. I set the box down out side. I turned off the alarm. I turned around.
KITTEN: meow (I admire your resistance to being made of delicious fish. I would like to live with you, in your house, where real fish may also reside)
ME: Kitten, I am sorry but we cannot be together. You are not mine, and I could never take you from those who love you.
KITTEN: meow! (But your house is warm, and look! I've started affecting a limp! Doesn't it melt your heart?)
ME: Oh kitten, why do you torture me so??
ME scoops up KITTEN who is now trying to run through the doorway, pets kitten thoroughly, places kitten gently on the ground at bottom of property line.
ME: You are lovely, Kitten, but you can never be mine.
ME retreats into house, closing door. KITTEN follows, bounding up to doorway, placing front paws up on base of door, staring up through door window at ME, whose lip is quivering with noble restraint
KITTEN: MEOW. MEEEEOOOOOOW (BUT I AM SMALL AND IT IS COLD AND I AM A BABY AND I LOOOOOOOOVE YOU AND IF YOU LOVED ME YOU'D LET ME IN WHAT IF I DIIIIIIIIE?)
ME: dies inside but does not open door
KITTEN: mraw. (oh, sod it...maybe that guy over there is made of fish)
KITTEN bounces away, ME collects self, does not weep.)
END
And that is the story of how I did not steal the Kitten, even though it totally wanted me to, and it was relly hard and I think I deserve cake.
This icon has *never been more appropriate*
Here a life update:
I did not steal the kitten.
A month ago, we saw him for the first time, to our surprise sitting in a tree. On sighting us, he mewed down to us. TINY. KITTEN. MEWS. He was interested for a good 10 seconds, but then set about DEFEATING THE TREE with his fearsome kitten claws and teeth.
It made me happy (KITTEN TINY BLACK KITTEN). It made me sad (there shall be no kittens for Amy, for some time yet).
We saw him semi-regularly after that, warned by the tiny bell on his collar that he was stalking through the bushes AHA YOU HAVE GROCERY BAGS I WILL PERCH. Other times he bravely defeated my hand, realized it wasn't a actually a bird, and bounced off. Rambunctious, fearless, aloof. KITTEN.
On Thursday I had to make a run home for lunch. I heard the bell. It had been a couple weeks. Kitten, a month older and wiser, was stalking around the painters on the neighbouring terrace (we're in a cul-de-sac), saw me and GIANT BOX OMG WHAT IS IT I CAN BEAT IT LET ME TRY.
I greeted him in the usual fashion, and after he realized that the box was not in fact a giant bird and that I was still rather stubbornly not made of fish he went back to stalking the grass.
Except this time he followed me back to our side of cul-de-sac. I opened the door. I set the box down out side. I turned off the alarm. I turned around.
KITTEN: meow (I admire your resistance to being made of delicious fish. I would like to live with you, in your house, where real fish may also reside)
ME: Kitten, I am sorry but we cannot be together. You are not mine, and I could never take you from those who love you.
KITTEN: meow! (But your house is warm, and look! I've started affecting a limp! Doesn't it melt your heart?)
ME: Oh kitten, why do you torture me so??
ME scoops up KITTEN who is now trying to run through the doorway, pets kitten thoroughly, places kitten gently on the ground at bottom of property line.
ME: You are lovely, Kitten, but you can never be mine.
ME retreats into house, closing door. KITTEN follows, bounding up to doorway, placing front paws up on base of door, staring up through door window at ME, whose lip is quivering with noble restraint
KITTEN: MEOW. MEEEEOOOOOOW (BUT I AM SMALL AND IT IS COLD AND I AM A BABY AND I LOOOOOOOOVE YOU AND IF YOU LOVED ME YOU'D LET ME IN WHAT IF I DIIIIIIIIE?)
ME: dies inside but does not open door
KITTEN: mraw. (oh, sod it...maybe that guy over there is made of fish)
KITTEN bounces away, ME collects self, does not weep.)
END
And that is the story of how I did not steal the Kitten, even though it totally wanted me to, and it was relly hard and I think I deserve cake.
This icon has *never been more appropriate*
no subject
Date: 2010-10-17 02:43 am (UTC)