In a few minutes their peaceful, sun-drenched nap will abruptly end when I fire up the miter saw, then the table saw, then the air compressor and then finally the nail gun.
I flash of guilt sweeps over me, and then I quickly recover. They’ll get me back for it some day. These, cats. They’ll exact some kind of fiendish revenge — a paw in my wine glass when I’m not looking, or eat my soul when I’m asleep. What ever form the revenge takes is sure to be out of proportion to the original crime. That’s a cat trademark.
Then why did we cave to a fuzzy face last weekend and take home another rescue cat?
And Sketch Makes Three
Do you know why animal rescue organizations set up in odd places like, oh, let’s say a used book store in Tucson? Because it works.
We found him between the canyons of used books at one of our favorite haunts, Bookmans in Tucson.
We went in to buy books, saw Sketch, and fell head over heels in love with him at first sight. Made a donation to the nice ladies fostering Sketch and a half-dozen other cats, and walked away certain that one more cat, no matter how adorable, would not be in our best interest. We were wrong.
A week later we called the rescue to see if by some strange rift in the laws that hold our universe together he was still available. He was.
And what an addition he is to our little family of five. Julia adores him, Sky pretends to be indifferent, and he charms us every day as he uses the stacks of moldings in the hall as a canyon from which to launch playful attacks on the rest of us.
Thank you Amanda and Tiffany of In The Arms of Angels for fostering Sketch until we could whisk him away to his forever home.