Sometimes the key to stop feeling sorry for yourself is to keep busy. I was stuck inside all day today since there was no more Dad home during the day to let us in and out as we choose.
magazine came in the mail, and I did some reading. There was an interesting "My Turn
" article by a guy who spent a lot of money on vet bills for his cat. It reminded me of a story Mom had told me about a cat her family used to have.
Mom was home for the summer from college, and Grandpa (her dad) had rescued a young Siamese kitty from a couple of abusive kids. (I'll tell that story another day.) Anyway, Mom's family had the kitty only a couple of days when one evening he bolted out of the front door right into the path of an oncoming car. He was hit and seriously injured. Grandpa, Mom, and Mom's sister rushed the kitty to the vet. There, Dr. Wright said that it was "simply a matter of economics." Did Grandpa want to spend the money to heal the kitty? Grandpa took one look at the kitty and his two daughters and said, "Yes, of course." The family officially adopted him then and ceased looking for his owner. The sisters named him Marcellus, and Grandpa called him Marcy for short. He had a pin in his hind leg, and his digestive tract always gave him trouble, but he lived another 17 years. Grandpa loved that kitty like no other; he was hooked on that meezer.
When it comes to us beloved kitties, we are not "simply a matter of economics." We are so much more in the lives of our families.
Labels: Grandpa, Marcellus, Newsweek