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How a kitten sublet an apartment
Nov. 30th, 2010 11:25 pmLogan the kitten has probably just solved 90% of my troubles.
You see, a few months ago, there was this sad little mewling from the alley that wedges up against the jumble of housebacks that touch on my patio. I couldn't find him, but he was definitely insisting that someone in my building come and adopt him. The next night, same thing. The third night, some Spanish lady started leaving him offerings of cat food and water on my patio steps, and then I came home to find a business card taped to my gate saying there was a little black kitten in my back yard and if I didn't own it, could he have the little guy?
So I called the number on the card and said sure, come on over. I went over to Delicious's house with the kid and thought nothing more of it.
He called as the KoE and I were nearly home. On the way over, is it still okay to get the cat? When I pulled up, three fabulously tenderhearted gay men were running around on my historic building's perfectly manicured lawn, absolutely beside themselves. One had blankets and towels. One had a cloth bag. One had absolutely no equipment but sported the biggest grin and he was dancing up and down, up and down, he was so thrilled that they had heard the kitten.
Mark, o he of the kitten-desire, dashed into my back yard as soon as I'd opened the gate, threw himself over the back fence, and reappeared two minutes later with the most adorable little bundle of WTF. Kitten Whisperer saves the day.
The scene was just frabjulous. We were all laughing and crying, didn't know which end was up. My son mooned about with cartoon puppy eyes, tenderhearted and all choked up with overwhelming emotion. The kitten was mostly nonplussed until too many human faces peered into the bag at once.
Nice claws, kitty.
They all oohed and ahh-ed over the apartment, the building, the historic-ness of it all, and Mark wondered if any units were available... all and sundry waved bye bye, TTFN as was my son's favorite affectation of the moment. I asked Mark to keep me up to date on how the kitten was faring and if it be a boy kitten or a girl.
Well, he is a funny man who sends me pictures of the kitty from time to time. The kitten's name is Logan, and he is a boy.
I texted the Kitten Whisperer tonight and asked, "know anyone who wants my apartment?" and got back MEEE CAN I CALL YOU NOW?
Well, seems his house was sold and he has to have his stuff out by the 16th of this month and he wants the apartment and he can give me two or three months' rent in advance and so if the landlady allows cats and I think my lease says yay, I CAN HAS TENANT.
The end.
You see, a few months ago, there was this sad little mewling from the alley that wedges up against the jumble of housebacks that touch on my patio. I couldn't find him, but he was definitely insisting that someone in my building come and adopt him. The next night, same thing. The third night, some Spanish lady started leaving him offerings of cat food and water on my patio steps, and then I came home to find a business card taped to my gate saying there was a little black kitten in my back yard and if I didn't own it, could he have the little guy?
So I called the number on the card and said sure, come on over. I went over to Delicious's house with the kid and thought nothing more of it.
He called as the KoE and I were nearly home. On the way over, is it still okay to get the cat? When I pulled up, three fabulously tenderhearted gay men were running around on my historic building's perfectly manicured lawn, absolutely beside themselves. One had blankets and towels. One had a cloth bag. One had absolutely no equipment but sported the biggest grin and he was dancing up and down, up and down, he was so thrilled that they had heard the kitten.
Mark, o he of the kitten-desire, dashed into my back yard as soon as I'd opened the gate, threw himself over the back fence, and reappeared two minutes later with the most adorable little bundle of WTF. Kitten Whisperer saves the day.
The scene was just frabjulous. We were all laughing and crying, didn't know which end was up. My son mooned about with cartoon puppy eyes, tenderhearted and all choked up with overwhelming emotion. The kitten was mostly nonplussed until too many human faces peered into the bag at once.
Nice claws, kitty.
They all oohed and ahh-ed over the apartment, the building, the historic-ness of it all, and Mark wondered if any units were available... all and sundry waved bye bye, TTFN as was my son's favorite affectation of the moment. I asked Mark to keep me up to date on how the kitten was faring and if it be a boy kitten or a girl.
Well, he is a funny man who sends me pictures of the kitty from time to time. The kitten's name is Logan, and he is a boy.
I texted the Kitten Whisperer tonight and asked, "know anyone who wants my apartment?" and got back MEEE CAN I CALL YOU NOW?
Well, seems his house was sold and he has to have his stuff out by the 16th of this month and he wants the apartment and he can give me two or three months' rent in advance and so if the landlady allows cats and I think my lease says yay, I CAN HAS TENANT.
The end.
