This morning, as the kids and I were leaving Sam's swimming lesson, they spotted a puppy way up ahead, on a long leash. Immediately the requests started.
Sam: "Mom, can we pet the dog?"
Me: "No. We don't know them or the dog." (I'm trying very hard to instill a tiny bit of caution around strange animals. Doesn't seem to be working yet.)
Sam: "But can we at least ask what his name is?"
Anna: "I want to pet the doggie too."
As we get closer and closer, I am increasingly confused. What kind of puppy is this?
Suddenly, and all at the same time, we all realize.
It's a kitten.
The kids were fascinated by the concept. Watch out, Jazz. I had many flashbacks to attempts to walk my childhood cat, Moonbeam. This kitten was actually walking on the leash instead of fighting it. Amazing.
I asked the people why they had a cat on a leash. Their answer was, "We found her and we can't keep her. We're trying to find another home, and the leash keeps her from running away."
My common sense responded, "Good luck!" and propelled me on to the parking lot. It wasn't until a few minutes later, after they had disappeared, that the sentimental part of me kicked in. "Awww... that was such a cute little tabby! The kids would love a kitten! I should have taken it!" I even drove around a little to see if I could figure out where they went. No sign of them.
Whew. What a narrow escape. I'm sure Scott would agree that a new kitten is the last thing we need with a baby coming any day now!
