About a week ago, our quiet life in the country has been turned upside down. We got Maggie about nine months ago, and sometimes she makes quiet seem like a thing of the past, but for the most part she is a part of our little family we love and have fun with.
Last week I went out about six o’clock in the morning to take Maggie out for her walk. All of a sudden I heard this horrible meowing almost a shriek. I went back in and got Fran. That was the beginning of the end of peace in our little house. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that a cat had got caught/or was living under our house. Every day has been a different episode with that cat. It is a beautiful chocolate Siamese cat. It’s coloring is perfect. It was starving to death. Fran had to take part of the skirt away so he could see under the house. He told me to get “Her” (I don’t know what it is, but I call it a her) some food. The cat was starving. That cat has eaten so much food in the last week she should have gotten sick, but not so. She has decided that she likes it here. Fran has heated the porch. She comes out to eat, she sleeps on Maggie’s bed and Maggie hates her. The feeling is mutual. The cat hisses at Maggie, but now does not move from the bed because she knows that I won’t let Maggie eat her up. Maggie has continued to pledge her allegiance to the chasing of cats like all good dogs in her ancestry. All to no avail. Fran swears that he does not want to keep the cat, but why would he go to town and buy forty pounds of propane to heat the porch. Hmm, I just wonder if there is a sequel to this story.
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