Every 70-Year-Old Man Should Have a Kitten
SO THIS MORNING Koda, our little adopted stray kitten/wild man, was tearing around the cabin—up and down the stairs, through the living room, through the kitchen, up and over furniture, playing with his foil ball, playing with string, terrorizing older cat Simon…
I decided to make my morning coffee and poured some beans into the small grinder and started it up. From the upstairs floor over my head came the sound of galloping feet. Suddenly there was Koda on the kitchen counter, checking to see What Is Going On? I had just spooned some grounds into the coffee maker and a few had fallen onto the counter. Koda was immediately into them—not good. Coffee cannot be good for a kitten and besides that, it was obviously the LAST thing the little wild man needed. I scooped up the grounds with my hand, put Koda on the floor. In a moment he was back up, licking the counter-top, rolling around on it. Better than catnip! Put Koda back on the floor, quick grabbed a Clorox wipe and wiped down the counter.
I made my cup of coffee and escaped into the living room. Koda followed. Then leapt onto the newel post and reached out a paw to grab my cup. Stuck his nose in. I escaped to my office and shut the door to enjoy my ‘quiet’ cup of coffee.
As Kathy says, “Every 70-year-old man should have a kitten.” How did we ever live without him?