Blackey

Good Morning! I hope you are having a Sunny Sunday, church day, first day of a new week day. When I was 6, or 7 maybe even 8 years old I begged and pleaded with my parents to let me keep the stray, jet black, do not let it cross your path, half grown cat I had been sneaking food to for weeks. I never thought she was an ordinary feline as we connected on some telepathic,  short haired,  kitty cat to young, human girl child born with enormous empathy for all God's creatures, level.  My practical parents were in agreement-no cats!  I started praying as surely the Almighty would want this extraordinary kitty to have a good home. I believe my plea was heard  and God sent a flood just short of Noah's Ark epic proportions, truely there was a small boat trolling down our flooded street.  My practical Mom, pulled on a raincoat, tucked her baby fine pin curls into a rain bonnet, snaped on her galoshes, grabbed an old towel and bravely went out in the torential rain storm, sloshing in our flooded back yard to save the stray kitty.  Now I was scared for my Mom.  No worries, she rescued the soggy, half drowned, fur ball, who had taken refuge under the backyard playhouse, the space she occupied rapidly filling with muddy rain water.  When I excitedly rattled off the whole story to Dad he and Mom exchanged 'that look' and he said "Well, I guess we have a cat now".  Blackie lived till I was 21.  I am not sure how old that is in dog years but I am thankful for all the years our family got to enjoy her. Hope your day is the cat's meow. kisses