Kevin Leman describes me as one who “sweats the details, organized, perfectionistic, rebellious”….Well, in keeping with my innate rebellion, I’ve defied all matter of reason (not to mention all things Firstbornish) and allowed, not one, but three furry kitties to live IN-MY-HOME. Now folks, this goes against every fiber of my being but being a great Mom comes with great sacrifice. My children love cats. Why, I’ll never know. I happened to mention to a fellow farm friend that we were in need of A cat. She called from the local livestock auction asking if we wanted a free one. In a moment of weakness, I accepted three. Three kids, three kitties. See? All nice, neat, and tidy – just how a firstborn operates, you see.
Yesterday, I tried to put them outside. They’re pictured here in a box-bed up high on the freezer away from our cat-eating dogs. They willingly stayed in the box; as you can see they posed for a photograph. I thought all was well. – Truthfully, I did – I love my kids and wouldn’t want anything to happen to their kitties, so we headed off to piano lessons and AWANA for the evening. We got home, friends, and those kitties were NOWHERE in sight. My heart sank as we searched high and low. Do any of you actually know and/or live with cat lovers? It’s really kinda sick if you ask me (sorry Kelli; you know I love you, sister), but nevertheless the love runs deep. I can honestly say I cannot muster up that much love for any animal on the planet but this post is not about me.
Where was I? Oh…we found them. All three were hanging in a bundle at the very tip top of a tree next to the back porch. The kids coaxed them down and they slept all safe and sound on Douglas’ head and Sarah’s feet. Who knows what else they do while we sleep; sneaky little creatures.