Nothing means more to me than the vows I made to my wife. She is the most important human being in my life, and I pride myself on keeping the promises I have made to her for the past thirty-six years.
This week I stumbled. I have to come clean. I broke a vow to Peggy that I made almost exactly nine years ago.
I couldn’t help myself. She was so cute; a true damsel in distress. There was really nothing else I could do but stop to help. And that was it…
Nine years ago I went for a walk and came home with two kittens. Actually, I only came home with one. The other was brought to our house a day later because he had been returned by the kid who took him home. I had a feeling it might happen, so I had told the owner to bring him to me if they brought him back.
Peggy made me promise that I would not bring home any more animals.
This week I broke that promise. I had ankle surgery six months ago, and three mornings a week I go to rehab trying to regain the use of and strength in my leg. This morning on my drive to the facility I saw something in the road and thought an animal had been run over. As I drove by I saw that it was still alive and basically frozen in the road with fear. I turned around and went back, fearing that I would arrive too late. When I got back to the spot she was still alive, so I picked her up and took her home.
Peggy wasn’t expecting me back so soon, so she immediately assumed something was wrong with me. I told her, “I don’t want you to be mad at me, but I really need your help.” The kitten had climbed up behind the glove compartment in my car and I couldn’t reach her — I needed Peggy’s much skinnier arms. I told her to put on her gloves and come to the car.
The kitten was so young she still had her bright blue eyes. She was still scared but she let Peggy reach her and bring her inside.
She has now been at our house for a week. Her eyes have changed to their real color now that she is weaned. And she might be the cutest thing I have ever seen. After a couple of days of adjusting our two adult cats are playing with her.
I am still guilty about breaking my promise to Peggy, but I think she is going to forgive me. In our thirty-two years of marriage this is now the eleventh cat I have brought home (along with three dogs). Our animals live forever, so we will have plenty of time to get used to this one. Since I found her in the road in Louisiana we named her LaRue (but I spelled it LeRoux because all of our animals have names that are food-related — it’s weird, but deal with it).
Meanwhile, Peggy seems to be warming up to the idea…