Mark believes Whomper Dinky is a Papist. Could be. I wouldn't be at all surprised.
We found WD at the post office seven years ago. She was attempting to climb into peoples' cars, meowing her little heart out looking for a home. It was love at first sight for me. I identified completely with this cat. I wanted to give her a home but Mark insisted he hated cats and would not have "that runt" on a bet. We took the cat to a friend's house. She agreed to try to find it a good home. All was said and done I thought, but God meant for us to have that cat.
We seldom visited Sue. However after dropping off WD I seemed to end up over there every other day for some reason or other. WD is small. Full grown she weighs only five pounds. As a young cat she was all ears. She is a tortoise shell or brindle cat. My God-mother calls her a summer cat referring to her color. Anyway she is black and brown and yellow all over. Each foot is a different color and her muzzle is a checkerboard. I was and am bats over this cat. Late one night Sue called. Would we go over to her house and check and see if the dryer had shut off. She would be late at work and was worried the ancient dryer had not shut off and would burn the house down. Over we went. WD met us at the door. This was strange as Sue's dog Muffin usually greeted us. I went downstairs to the laundry room. The dryer was off but Muffin was sitting on top of it. Very odd. Mark came down the stairs accompanied by a chorus of kitty protest. "Damn this is a loud cat," he said. When Mark and the feline fire siren entered the room Muffin began to whine. In trying to comfort her I noticed scratches on her nose. Apparently the fluffy interloper was fierce as well as loud. I called Mark's attention to the scratches. He down looked at the small cat, "A dinky whomper," he said with approval. We went back up stairs and prepared to leave. WD promptly ran over and sat on Mark's foot. When he attempted to dislodge her, she meowed but held on. "Tenacious," he said. He finally managed to shake her off and we left.
"Wasn't that a cute cat," I pleaded on the way home. Not a word did he utter. We drove on in dejected silence, at least on my part. It was ten pm and I was tired and sad and mad. And he did not seem to be heading home."Why the heck are we going to Wal-Mart?" Not a word did he utter. "Fine, go in an get your crap. I am staying in the car." He left. I was steaming when he came out thirty minutes later, and with an entire cart full of stuff. "What the hell is all of that," I yelled? Not a word did he utter. We again started for home, only again in the wrong direction. "Now where are we going? Couldn't you have done all this earlier in the evening?" Not a word did he utter. We eventually arrived back at Sue's. I had had it. "Is this some sort of idiot joke. Why did we come back here?"
There was a long pause, "I needed a cat to go with the cat box and litter."
I'll tell you later why he thinks his cat is a Papist.
Take care of yourselves. Love Bea