….one cat at a time.

My wife has the biggest heart of anyone I know. Seriously. It’s bigger than the Grinch’s heart after it grew three sizes. She especially has a big heart when it comes to animals.

One time, she called me crying, blubbering about a squirrel she’d seen get run over. She wanted me to return to the scene of the crime, make sure it was dead (not suffering) and then bury the animal. Of course, I promptly headed out, shovel in hand.

Yesterday, the phone rang. It was my wife on the other line blubbering. “Did a squirrel get run over?” was my response. No. It appears she saw a kitten get hit by a car, so she stopped to help. The kitten was still alive, but very agitated and hurt. Ginny scooped the cat up in a diaper and rushed him to the vet. Rumor has it she got Josh to make ambulance sounds along the way.

The vet checked the cat out, and determined that he might live. I’m guessing the prognosis is a 50% chance (just guessing). Apparently, that cost $60. I’m not a vet, but I drove past a Holiday Inn Express once, and I could have made that determination for much cheaper.

Nonetheless, the cat is currently residing in our hall bathroom. Riley has named the cat Boo Boo Cat, for reasons intuitively obvious to the casual 2-year old.

That being said, there’s a 50% chance I may have a kitten available for adoption soon. I spoke with Sylvia Brown, and she saw a man by the name of Bobby taking the cat to replace his daughter’s lost cat. Who am I to argue with Sylvia Brown?