My middle child (well, one of them) gets SO middle-childed. While both Hudson and Harvey are my “middles,” Harvey has been high-maintenance since the day he was born… he could never get lost in the shuffle because he IS the shuffle. Hudson, on the other hand, is a little older, more self-sufficient, quiet, and happy to play nicely in his room for hours. In this house, by virtue of ALL.WE.WANT.IS.QUIET, it’s usually the squeaky wheel that gets the grease. Which means that meaningful time with Hudsy is sometimes hard to come by.
So, today, I took Hudson to get his fav decaf iced-mocha from Cafe Capri (he’s a very sophisticated 9-year-old) and then out to see the military vehicles at the Idaho Military Museum at Gowen Field. It was awesome. We were the only ones there, walking around outside under some pretty ominous thunderheads.
Afterward, because we were close (and only JUST TO LOOK) we went into the Idaho Humane Society to visit the cats. Hudson absolutely adores cats. Substantially more than he likes most humans, I think. I’m a little concerned he’s going to be an old man who gets taken for everything he’s worth by the likes of one Ms. Sarah McLachlan and the SPCA. Hudson’s last cat went to live on the farm *no, for real* because she was a stone-cold predator (and a scratchy/bitey beeyotch) who preferred being outside 24/7 where she could dismember our neighbor’s finches and leave them on their porch. So, now she lives in a goat barn and feasts on goat milk and fresh mouse guts all day long. However, since then, there’s been a cat-shaped hole in Hudson’s heart.
The cattery was packed with kittens today. Lots of little fuzz balls wrestling, mewing and nibbling our fingers. Hudson was in heaven, never having been to the Humane Society before. In fact, when he saw the building he asked me if this is where they do the genetic testing. Ummm, noooooooo. ?
And then we met a geriatric fella sitting peacefully in his cage. He had been surrendered by neighbors of his owner, an elderly person who had been hospitalized and then transferred to a long-term care facility. The sign said, “This cat is a 12-year-old, indoor, neutered, declawed, dog-friendly, lap-sitter looking for his forever home.” It was love at first chatter. And he gives kisses.
Annnnnd because a Venn diagram of my relationship with willpower looks approximately like this:
We’re gonna love him and squeeze him and carry him under his armpits and dress him in baby clothes for the remainder of his days. SADDLE UP, PARTNER. The rest of your life is about to get a whole lot more…….exhilarating! Welcome home, Kenny! (Get that look off your face. It’s gonna be fine.)