Monday, May 08, 2006


There is a picture of me as a child, about four years old, sitting on our avocado-colored linoleum kitchen floor, surrounded by kittens, with a huge smile on my face. The perceptive among you may see an animal lover. Apparently you should also see a sucker for stray cats and dogs.

Saturday morning began with a predawn trip to the airport to send John off to Spain. When I got home I rummaged through the garage for some odds and ends and began setting up for the neighborhood garage sale. The day went well: I brought in over a hundred dollars and managed to only spend five at my neighbor’s. (I couldn’t believe she was selling a hand-thrown gorgeously glazed vase for only $2!)

Just as I was packing up for the day, marking “Free” on a few remaining items, my neighbor appeared holding a mewing, shaking, skinny black kitten. “One of our customers found this wandering in the street. KK, this one has your name written all over it.” This is the same woman who saved my life two weeks ago. I growled.

I refused. I resisted. I swore. I begged and pleaded. And now there’s a black cat sleeping in John’s bathroom.

The neighborhood kids named him Sunshine, and I call him Sunny for short. He’s got Annie, Piper and myself all spellbound. He gallops across the wooden floors; he spins, lunges, and practically flies when he’s attacking a string or a ball with a bell in it. And then he curls up in my arms, purrs so loud you can hear him across the room, and falls asleep with his feet sticking up in the air.

Of course John has no idea there’s a cat sleeping in his bathroom. I wonder what he’ll think when he reads this.


Johntex said...

She's in MY bathroom??!!!???? That's the BOY's bathroom!!!!

KK said...

Well, Sunny IS a boy. Now you can feel a little less out numbered. :-)