Cats in the Cradle and the Silver Spoon

Until last week, my apartment has been cold. As in, resting temperature in the 50s. This is both strange and true. Strange because I am someone who hates to be cold and find myself that way quite often and strange because I am paying quite a bit of money to subject myself to this. Now I have new heat, which is amazing, but not the story.

A few years ago I was enjoying a long nights sleep, it was the first day of winter break. I woke up FREEZING. And I mean a deeper level of cold. I actually though to myself, gosh this is a lot colder than normal. I bundled up further and a few minutes later looked around the room. Only to see a cat. A CAT.


He was just walking past my door. I don’t own a cat. I never plan on owning a cat. They scare me-this comes from the cat we had when I was a child. When Hugo was a kitten he would jump out from behind almost anything and grab onto my feet. This is NOT the kind of surprise I enjoy. Neither is finding a stranger cat in my apartment.

How did he get into my apartment you wonder? I don’t always remember to lock my door (as shown in my tweet earlier this week). Apparently this cat had been waiting to pounce on my forgetfulness and welcome himself into my home, and I am sure he was hoping, my heart. He pushed that door right open and came right in.

I jumped right out of bed and started shooing that cat out. I was afraid to touch him (even though he sits on my front stoop everyday). But who knows the cat germs it was holding.

My great aunt used to always say: “Cats suck the breath out of babies.”

One other last thought: I wish this instance has made me more vigilant about locking the door. If wishes were changes….


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