Never Say Never

We have a cat. Her name is Miss Kitty. We inherited her from Bill, an very special man who passed away recently.

I had told the kids that they could have a cat when they moved into their own homes. I am not a cat person! Definitely a dog person. But the move to the country has caused me to reconsider my dislike of cats. I never minded them in other people's homes. But I never wanted one. Never say never.

The country is full of mice. We have had many mice in both houses we've lived in here. When I complain (because I really hate mice!!), my friends here smile and suggest getting a cat.

Miss Kitty has a reputation as a great mouser. She has already rescued a sock from under a bureau. She is friendly with the kids, and knows how to escape to the basement should she want some privacy. Our four-year-old daughter is the cat's girl. She woke up this morning and got dressed so quickly. Then I took her downstairs and showed her how to feed Miss Kitty and scoop her litter.

Speaking of litter, I was told the cat was housebroken. But when I went to bed last night, it was not apparent if she had used the litter box. Not that I am fond of the ancient carpet here. But I do not like the smell of cat urine. So at 2 am, when I woke up and went down to stoke the fire, I was thrilled to see that Miss Kitty had used her litter box. It was all I could do to not wake up my husband to tell him. She's a great cat.