My Puppy (Part 3)

This is completely irrelevant to the story of my kitten, but I wanted to talk about it anyways. Because I think it’s a worthwhile thought.

Recently I’ve been reading letters to and from various lawyers (as part of my work) from the 80s, and I really like they way they close their letters. That, and the language is so polite and courteous. I wish people wrote like that now. So you should all go out and practice writing letters and mail them so we can all be gentrified. Even if you are of the female gender, you can still be a gentle lady. (Yes, this is another plug to save the USPS–because it’s worth it.)

All right, back to my tale.

So I woke up the next morning to Puppy mewing and scratching and trying to get out. This was way earlier than when I normally get up, and I considered staying in bed longer and just letting Puppy fuss, but then I decided to get up. After feeding her and giving her water, I was then considering what to do.

According to the Internet, the animal shelter opened at 10 a.m., but according to the recording I got on the phone the night before, it opened at 8 a.m. Either way, it was still too early to leave. So I sat around in the hallway trying not to fall asleep with Puppy circling me, wanting me to play with her. She really wanted to be petted a lot and have her tummy rubbed. After a while, I decided to call the animal shelter to figure out if they were open and I could drop Puppy off. They confirmed that they were indeed open, so all I had to do was to get Puppy in a box or something, and bring her to the shelter.

That proved to be a little more difficult than I thought.

Had it been the night before, I would have had no problem in keeping Puppy in a box. But she had already figured out how to get out of boxes. Every time I stuck her in, she would jump out before I could close it. Or if I closed it, she would wriggle out under the flaps or something. It was so frustrating. She’d even jump in, and then I’d close the flaps, and then she’d jump out. She probably thought it was a game or something.

Meanwhile I was trying to figure out what to do. I knew that I didn’t want fleas in my car, nor cat hair everywhere, and I was afraid of her running off. I didn’t have a cage or anything, so I had to figure out what to do. Eventually, I decided to get a plastic bin with a lid, stick her in there, and close the lid right away. No time for her to figure out what was going on.

I don’t think cat’s like plastic bins–especially when they’re closed in it.

I put her in the car, and we were off.

I think she likes car rides.

She was pretty good in the car. She liked to see what was going on outside, and it calmed her down.

Once we got to the shelter, there was actually a line to drop animals off, so we waited there for a while.

She started to get impatient.

I took her out and held her for a while, and then put her back in. But after having a taste of being outside the bin, she really wanted to get out. So she scratched and scratched, and I felt so bad. So I picked up the bin and started rocking her around, and I think that calmed her down.

Finally, it was our turn, and I turned Puppy in.

Bye, Puppy.

So… that was my adventure of having a kitten for half a day. I thought about her for the entire rest of the day, wishing that I kept her.

Then I got over it, and now I’m back to wanting to have a dog. A real one. Not a cat named Dog.


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