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You know what? You can have Lucky. He’s a big pain in the rump.
Thatgot a quick response.
What? No. You can’t give away your cat. Not to me. I’m not ready. You’re not ready. You love your cat. Don’t you?
I frowned. Of course I loved my cat. I would never give him away.
It had just been a joke. But obviously she was in a worse place than I’d even realized because she seemed almost panicked at the idea of adopting another.
She told you she couldn’t adopt. Try actually listening to her.
I rubbed my forehead. As a vet, I’d seen a lot of pet parents who had a hard time losing their beloved furry family member. I’d also lost several of my own over the years. Every grief experience was different.
The last thing I wanted to do was cause Kitty even a moment’s concern that I would rush her into something she wasn’t ready for.
On any level.
I sent back a quick message.
I was just kidding, Kitty. Being sarcastic.
She answered right away.
Oh. Sorry. Of course you were. I’m not good at sarcasm. My authors know they can’t
Abruptly, she’d stopped typing, but I saw the text bubbles that indicated she was probably writing something or she kept erasing her thoughts.
This continued for approximately four minutes while I stood there staring at my screen like a guppy while chaos reigned in another part of my apartment. At least the sound of this chaos I recognized. It was the rapid whirling of the toilet paper roll in the bathroom. Lucky was likely going to town on it, as he did at least twice a week. Usually he did this to show me he, yet again, disapproved of my choices in some area or another.
Or he was just hungry. Regardless, there was a reason I kept a six-pack of toilet paper stocked in the linen closet at all times.
Finally another message came through.
Disregard last message. It has a typo.
Man, that was a lot of typing for a supposed typo. That clearly wasn’t a typo at all.
She didn’t want me to know she had “authors,” whatever that meant. Though it confirmed that Rina and Sven’s adventures likely had not been written by her.
Was she the author’s editor? That made sense with her fixation on mistakes. Or maybe some kind of coach. But she seemed rather in need of some coaching herself, although that didn’t mean what she coached had anything to do with confidence.
Okay. I’m not giving you my cat. Other than on a temporary basis for Princess to bond with.
I paused then sent another message.
Though they kind of seemed to hate each other the other day, but I missed the rest of their interactions that night. Jackson has ideas how to make new cats get along, but not sure we can un-ring that bell now, you know? So we have to make the best of where we are.
Kitty didn’t hesitate to answer.
No.
I sighed. No, she didn’t understand or no, she didn’t want to make the best of where we were?
We can’t go back and start over. To do things in a manner more likely to achieve the results we want
Kitty was still on her quick reply roll.
What results do we want?
