Ah, insomnia.
I was feeling vaguely depressed and couldn’t sleep, so even though it was midnight I said goodbye to the kittens and went outside to take a walk.
And on my walk I met a stray cat. She came up to me and asked to be petted. She was limping. Her sides were caved in. She purred, and rubbed her head against my leg.
Well, what the heck was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just leave her to die, could I?
So I went home and got a carrier and some food. I brought her yowling and complaining back to the apartment, shut her up in the laundry room, and watched as she wolfed down the food.
I guess I’d better take her to the vet in the morning and see if she can be saved, if she’s just starving or if she has some kind of horrible disease.
But I’m NOT keeping her. For one thing, I already have two cats, and that is quite enough for even a fairly large apartment. Also, she has long hair, and you know how much long-haired cats shed. Anyway, I’m going on vacation next month, and I know my cats can deal with that, but what about a stranger? And think of the added vet bills. More food. Another litter box. So out she goes as soon as she looks a little stronger.
Insomnia might be a good name. I was trying to sleep by reading a biography of Dorothy Parker (another melancholy insomniac), so Dorothy, or Parker if she turns out to be male…
But I’m not naming her. Because she isn’t staying. She’s just here because she asked me for help, that’s all. And if the vet says she’s too expensive to save, I won’t pay it.
Really.
I’m sure of it.