Let me start by telling you that I don't really like cats. In fact, the only cats I like, are unable to spell and captioned by strangers on a popular time-killer website.
Baby cats do tend to endear me, but so do baby cows, baby goats and any baby animal for that matter. The only problem is they grow up and I have been told pets are forever, not just for Christmas. This is why the endearment lasts 3 seconds and I am ready to move on.
This Friday night, however, I was faced with a tiny black kitten drowning in a puddle (it had been raining excessively for a few days), looking sick and miserable and helpless. My kind nature, of course, couldn't walk past without feeling sorry for the poor creature.
Now my other half, who has been wanting a kitten for a really long time now, was ready to walk away in the rain (pointing at the dog in his hand!) but I was convinced my conscious will not let me sleep if I leave this kitten in distress.
So after we walked the dog (my friend's Jack Russell terrier who has been hanging out with us recently), we took the rabbit's pet carrier, G.'s diving gloves and a towel, ready to rescue all the stray suffering kittens of Gibraltar. Not after phoning the local SPCA who I now deem utterly useless. Listen to this: they only prevent animal cruelty for home pets and don't give a damn about stray animals, in my opinion, way likelier to become victims of cruelty!
To our great surprise, the kitten had no intention of being rescued. It shamelessly bit Gareth's finger and ran away. At this point, soaked and tired of being a good person, I was already reasonable enough to simply walk away and leave everyone to their own faith.
That same night, after a quick visit to the local Accidents and Emergency Unit at the hospital for G.'s bitten finger, my conscious had no objections to me sleeping well. So how was your Friday night?
Baby cats do tend to endear me, but so do baby cows, baby goats and any baby animal for that matter. The only problem is they grow up and I have been told pets are forever, not just for Christmas. This is why the endearment lasts 3 seconds and I am ready to move on.
This Friday night, however, I was faced with a tiny black kitten drowning in a puddle (it had been raining excessively for a few days), looking sick and miserable and helpless. My kind nature, of course, couldn't walk past without feeling sorry for the poor creature.
Now my other half, who has been wanting a kitten for a really long time now, was ready to walk away in the rain (pointing at the dog in his hand!) but I was convinced my conscious will not let me sleep if I leave this kitten in distress.
So after we walked the dog (my friend's Jack Russell terrier who has been hanging out with us recently), we took the rabbit's pet carrier, G.'s diving gloves and a towel, ready to rescue all the stray suffering kittens of Gibraltar. Not after phoning the local SPCA who I now deem utterly useless. Listen to this: they only prevent animal cruelty for home pets and don't give a damn about stray animals, in my opinion, way likelier to become victims of cruelty!
To our great surprise, the kitten had no intention of being rescued. It shamelessly bit Gareth's finger and ran away. At this point, soaked and tired of being a good person, I was already reasonable enough to simply walk away and leave everyone to their own faith.
That same night, after a quick visit to the local Accidents and Emergency Unit at the hospital for G.'s bitten finger, my conscious had no objections to me sleeping well. So how was your Friday night?
