When my cats aren’t happy, I’m not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they’re just sitting there thinking up ways to get even. – Percy Bysshe Shelley
Maggie came to us seven years ago in September. She wore a green flea collar so when I saw her “Halloween Cat” a PT Cruiser to a full stop in the street, I assumed she belonged to someone.
We had just lost our fifteen year old Fluffy and were down to a herd of five kitties. We were not looking for another. Still, what do you do? Here is a small five week old kitten, obviously lost, that needs help. I put up posters around the neighborhood, posted her on facebook, etc. figuring someone would claim her. I refused to name her so as not to get attached. Yea right….
Fur-baby Sitting Maggie
After a week, when there were no claims, my sister said she wanted her. She WAS adorable. Sis named her Maggie. I agreed to keep her until she got settled in
to a new place, then under construction. That took a bit longer than planned, so Maggie and I became friends. I kept my sis in mind as I trained and loved on “The Maggs”, but was secretly glad that I would have visitation rights after she left my care.