Why my heart is hurting. I dont know if anyone thought enough to give him a name. Maybe he was just that little orange cat or worse, get outta here, you. Did he have a warm home with two meals a day, balls of yarn to play with, a cozy bed to sleep on with a happy little girl? He didnt look starved or even thin, his fur was soft and clean when we found him laying on the sidewalk Sunday evening. We debated whether we should take his stiff little body away or leave him there so his family would at least have closure if they were looking for him. I gently moved him off the sidewalk into the grass, promising to check back to see if anyone picked him up. Driving down that street the next two days, I saw no posters mentioning a lost kitty, a sad family, a reward for bringing him home. Today, I gently wrapped him in some plastic bags and took him home. I tucked a little orange yarn ball in with him and buried him in a quiet spot in the woods behind our horse pastures. Now the little orange kitty without a name plays at the Bridge. I called him Cheeto.
Posted on: Thu, 06 Nov 2014 16:26:00 +0000
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