We found a cat trapped in the shed behind our house on the weekend. He was very cold, hungry and dirty. While we're waiting for a family to claim him, he is making himself quite at home, preferring to sleep under the plant lights during the day and on one of the kids' beds during the night.
I had been putting off the "when will we get another cat" question so now that one is here, if just temporarily, the kids are all claiming ownership. Milo, who is 4 1/2 years old and was the first to hear the cat's cries from the cold, feels he should be the one to name him. Our youngest, Willa, now 3, is just desperate to have him sit on her lap, and our oldest daughter, Neva, 7, thinks it should be her cat because she takes care of him the most. She quickly dropped her stake in this claim, however, when I reminded her that "taking care" of the cat also meant cleaning the litter box.
Her naiveté reminded me of when she was about 3 or 4 years old and she got her first fish. It hadn't been in the tank an hour when she asked, "Daddy, when my fish dies, can I get a cat?"
And I was reminded again of that naiveté yesterday when I went to pick her up for lunch at school. I was holding another mother's toddler when Neva walked out looking puzzled.
"Mommy," she asked, "what are you doing?"
"Oh," I responded matter-of-factly, "I traded the cat for Adam."
"Really?!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
