Read the prologue to my Thursday, "Tird's Day" posts here.
Tird's Day: The Lie
After arriving home from our trip to the pet shop, the wheels in my roommate’s head started to spin. I think I could even see the smoke from the burning gears. While I can’t recall the exact conversation, now some 15 years ago, I remember my roommate’s repeated pleas of something along the line of, “Let me get you that cat, I feel bad that you left behind your ferret”. I’m sure I jumped on a soapbox about how some lame cat could never replace my Rugrat, but sooner rather than later, somewhere between the cat’s charm and my roommate’s guilt, I agreed that I actually liked and wanted the cat. But how?
The apartment complex had a weird renting policy which stated that any cat you initially moved in with could stay with you, but if you wanted to add a cat later it was against the rules. Cowboy would be a late, and illegal, addition at this point as he was not included in the details of the initial lease signing. And then the roommate shifted those gears in her brain into "high".
My Aunt had two cats. But what if she magically had three? What if that third cat was just too much for her to handle and she needed to find it a home? I mean, after all, she raised it from a kitten and it was super-well behaved! Mr. Landlord, can't you help us and this poor, soon to be homeless cat out and allow us to take him in?
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