Cindi Gale

One day last month, my oldest son arrived on an inbound Megabus. After breakfast on the final full day of his visit, I asked, “Do you want to relax at home today or go do something?”

“I could do something. Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe stop in at the animal shelter?”

“Okay, let’s do that.”

Moments later he was calling his landlord to ask if it was alright to adopt a cat. (The rental contract said clearly that no pets were allowed.)

“Yes, of course,” his cheerful landlord replied, “It’s your home!”

Well okay then, the landlord doesn’t abide by his own rental contract. So off we went to the local shelter.

It required all of two seconds for my son to spot his cat. Of the twenty or so felines in the cat room, only two were awake — the rest curled in cozy nooks and crannies, or sprawled…

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