After one too many run-ins with mice in the house, I decided more aggressive action must be taken.
So, I got a cat.
(I would like to take a moment to address my landlord, should he be reading. It’s an outdoor cat. Relax.)
Anyway, one of the girls at work said she could hook me up with a cat from her cousin’s house out in No Man’s Land. She kept saying things like, “We’re going to try to catch one of the cats in the barn for you.” Statements like that made me pause with concern. (I want it to be known I forced myself to avoid throwing “paws” in there for effect. You’re welcome.)
I was picturing a big ole, mean cat that would claw my eyes out if I got too close. At least it will be great at killing mice, I told myself. Hopefully, I prayed, it wouldn’t mistake me for a mouse.
So when she showed up at my house last weekend with a pet carrier, I was surprised to not hear clawing and hissing from within. As she sat the carrier down, she informed me this isn’t the cat they planned to give me. That cat, she said, was already promised to someone else. I hoped it was a big, strong man who could defend himself.
I was pleasantly surprised when a short game of tug and war inside the carrier produced what looked more like a kitten than a cat. It wasn’t grey as I had imagined. Its coat was a mixture of black, orange, brown and white.
With the words “This is Susan,” I was in love.
Before I could say hello, Susan took off and hid behind some wood stacked against the wall.