Last weekend, 2 kittens came into my life. One was found by the next door neighbor—an orange tabby—and the other kitten (whose type is yet to be determined) was found around 11pm on my family’s front porch. She appeared the night before Father’s Day. The running joke is that my dad received a kitten as his gift.
Anyone who knows my family knows we are dog people. Every dog in our lives is spoiled and incredibly loved. We have adopted many rescue dogs and believe doing so is better than buying a pet. We have owned cats in the past, but dogs took over our hearts—probably because we have not had cats in our lives in some time. After my favorite cat died, I started telling friends that I am not a cat person. All that changed when the kittens appeared last weekend.
The neighbor found a home for the tabby at her vet’s office. The kitten who chose our home has won our hears and has moved in. She is the sweetest little thing. Honestly, she has totally hit the jackpot and seems to be well aware. I would have never thought my dad would have taken so quickly to our purring buddy. He definitely has.
Her name is Frankie (I am the one who named her!) and she has proven us all wrong. I am, in fact, a cat person. Life makes me realize, more and more, of how little I know and how quickly I can be proven wrong about what I think I do.
I could go on, but I should probably go check in on the kitten…
One day, I will look back
at a photograph of you
and think to myself
You were so damn cute!
Well, I will be right,
because you are
Z
ZACDAQ 