My boys wanted a cat. Begged for a cat.
They told me they’d clean toilets for a year for a cat.
Well, I can’t have a cat; I’m allergic. I’m sticking with my big doggie.
However, one day while riding home with their bonus mom, they saw a small kitten trying to cross the busiest thoroughfare in town, dodging traffic and surely expending one of its nine lives. They pulled into the mall parking lot and rescued the kitten who was riddled with worms, had an eye infection and was clearly malnourished.
They dropped it off at the vet, hoping the vet could get it healthy.
The boys, plus their bonus brother, must have really worked on the parental units that night, begging to pick the small, white, fluffy kitten up from the vet the next day and bring it home with them because that’s exactly what happened.
The kitten, a Manx, has big blue eyes and a little nub of a tail distinctive to that breed.
Remember the promise about cleaning the toilets for a year? Well, apparently their dad didn’t extract that promise, but the boys DO have to clean the kitty’s litter box.
It’s not their favorite chore in the world, but cat litter is engineered to lock in moisture and odors. It’s easy to clean and clumps to be easily scoopable. Plus, the kitten is worth it.