Karma

I don't really believe in karma, I haven't seen enough proof that one gets what one deserves to truly believe. But I didn't write that I don't believe, I wrote that I don't really believe. I still find anecdotal evidence for it, like my sister's daughter Dolly. Having to raise your clone seems pretty karmic to me. The latest anecdotal evidence for it is ending up with exactly what I was trying to avoid. I did not want a third cat. I did not ever want a long-haired cat. I planned on always adopting grown cats. Guess what's living in my solarium?





Right now I'm telling people we're fostering with the option to adopt. See, on April 20th my brother was visiting our mom's grave and found her. He took her to the vet the following day for treatment for her respiratory infection and get checked for feline leukemia and the like. He called me immediately to ask if I was interested in adopting her, to which I wholeheartedly responded NO. Two weeks later our other brother Job moves back to their house, and he's allergic to cats, so he had to find her a home right away. MacGyver had already asked me to make her his birthday present*. We've had her since Saturday. He did agree that we'll find her another home if she is a jerk or if Gonk and Domino hate her. Honestly, I think I'm stuck with her. Fortunately, she is so damn cute, and she hasn't been acting like a jerk yet. Mostly she plays with string and pounces on little pieces of cardboard. She's 10 weeks old and weighs 1.5 pounds, 75% of her volume is fluff. My brother called her Wheezie, but we're discussing other names. I'm pushing for MoCa (or Moca). Her black hairs have a cinnamon cast, kind of like mocha, but MoCa stands for Mobile Cactus. If you've handled kittens, you know what I mean.

*All he wants for his birthday is a little pussy.