The Devil in Disguise

A little over a week ago, Derek went for an early morning bike ride on the Legacy Trail. About an hour later he called the house. When I answered the phone he said, “Hi.”
There it was, that tone in his voice and if you know Derek you’ll understand my immediate thought. “Yeah, he’s about due for an injury” expecting him to say something like, “Hey could you meet me at Lakeview?” or “I’m at LDS hospital.” For awhile there I91 was neck-in-neck with Injury-59.

“I found a kitten,” he said.
“Oh.”
“Can I bring him home?”
“No, I’m a heartless beast and there is no room here for a kitten.”

Just kidding, that wasn’t my reply and there is room I suppose.

We always had dogs (or dōggies as my 2 year old niece calls them in her best James Taylor accent) growing up in the Enquist home. We also had fish, frogs, stray bunnies; my brother had a Cockatiel and turtles. I also had ferrets, the Pucks in the world of domesticated pets, but never before had I lived with a cat.

Reasons I Don’t Like Cats:
1. They are from the devil.
2. They are useless. Show me a seeing-eye-cat or a police department that employs a bomb/drug sniffing, criminal apprehending feline unit and I might change my mind.
3. I’m allergic to them.
4. Feline is Latin for “I will strategically place myself under your foot when you step”
5. If you look at them wrong, they’ll scratch your eyes out.
6. They have highly developed Ninja skills.
7. They are alien beings sent here if the form of loving fuzz balls, only to take over the world when we least suspect it.

Sufficed to say, Derek & the munchkins are smitten by the kitten. They refer to him as Gnocchi. I will affectionately refer to him as Lucifer.