So, we’re back from WalMart, stuff is where it belongs (plastic bags tied up and in the trash) and we decided to walk down the street to one of the neighbor’s who was having a yard sale. I’d seen one of those big turtle kid’s sandboxes and thought it would be a swell litterbox. Brian didn’t agree.
Anyway, there really wasn’t much there, but there were two old sewing machines in cabinets. I didn’t need a machine, but I really liked the cabinets. You can’t get them like that anymore. These were real wood, not particle board like the ones I’ve had. My old one disintegrated from cat pee and my new one is well on the way to being ruined, no matter how often I clean it off. They were selling the machine and cabinet for $75.00. I told her I just wanted the cabinet, she said “$10.00”. That was a steal!
Brian was talking to the man of the house and I chatted with the lady of the house and her kids. This was the place were Ciara originally came from, another domicile of cat lovers. Except they don’t love cats the way we do. They let theirs out at night and let them go free range. She told me about a really friendly stray, black and white longhair that she fed, but one day the neighbor told her the remains were in their yard. Coyotes. I’d mentioned how many we had and that we had a couple of kittens. The daughter perked up, how old were the kittens. I just shook my head. “We’re like a roach motel for cats, they check in, but they don’t check out”. The father asked if we had any that looked like Bengals.
Sorry, guy, but I’d never give or sell a cat to a home who let them roam. And didn’t get around to spaying one of their females. Just not responsible owners. There’s more to being a responsible owner than just feeding the kitty, ya know?
Brian and I talked about it on the way home and he totally agreed.