This is Horton.
He is stunningly beautiful, isn't he?
My husband got a call one night from another contractor about a feral kitten that had been left by its mother. The mom cat had moved the rest of the litter that morning and he figured she would come get the little guy, but when he got back home that evening there sat the kitten alone, cold, and hungry. The call went something like this:
Contractor: "Doesn't your wife rescue cats?"
Husband: "Yes, but we need another cat like a hole in the head, so forget it"
Contractor: "If you don't tell her, I'll call her when you're at work. Then you will have another cat AND she will be mad at you."
He was the cutest kitten I have ever seen.
Now 12 years later, as I sit on the couch entering my ride miles and time from tonight, Horton (yes, from Horton Hears a Who. Long before the lame remake) lays next to me intermittently reaching out with his paw to show me love and YET AGAIN snag my bike jersey. Every flippin' exercise shirt I have has snags in the waist from loverboy here.
But when he looks up at me with the same sweet, greens eyes I fell in love with 12 years ago, when he was a 10 day old, abandoned baby, covered in fleas, that had to be fed from a bottle all through the night, I smile and give him a chin scratch and say "Mama loves you too."
There are worse things in life than to have a cat that loves you too much.
I can buy new spandex.
There is only one Horton.
10 hours ago