On Friday we found a kitten. We were walking home from our last walk of the day and we saw a tiny fluff of courage, running towards us across the road. Too young to be out, stupidly brave: cars and dogs meant nothing to him. We took him home for safekeeping, hoping the owner will be found soon. Well, as it turned out, Brian was hoping he could keep the kitten!
Sometimes meeting someone briefly can make a huge impression. Brian spent a night and a day with the kitten we called Harald. It might have been the best time of their young lives.
They were running around the hose like mad, they made lots of mess and refused to be parted for the night. Harald, tiny as he was, had the upper paw in every chase. Ambushes, mad attacks, smacks on the nose, jumping at poor Brian from the furniture, surprising him every single time…it all worked so well (and Brian loved it, it wasn’t about winning after all, the ‘taking part’ mattered more)
Harald was chipped and registered, so now he’s reunited with his very relieved owner. But Brian’s heart got broken, his best ever playmate has disappeared and no matter how often he walks past the toy boxes, there’s no more mad attacks, no kitten jumping out from behind the box to smack Brian’s bum, no paw emerging suddenly to smack Brian’s nose…
We did fall in love with the little kitten with huge character. And even if I’m happy that he has a loving home, I do miss the little terrorist!