Held Captive
January 17th 2011 21:00
Being homeless sucks. It must also suck when you decide to move back home with Mummy and Daddy which is what Brett has decided to do.
Now that Brett lives further away from me, we don’t see each other as often. Still, we try to catch up whenever he is in the CBD.
My first question was about the boys. “Where are they?” I asked. “Are they with Vicky?”
“No, they’re in a boarding house. There’s a woman in Coogee who runs a place just for cats and she has so many of them. I visit them several times a week and they are so excited when they see me. They chirrup. I wish I could tell them I haven’t abandoned them, that this is only until I get permanent accommodation. I love my boys so much,” he said.
“You’ve done the right thing,” I said. “Just look at the number of people who simply abandon their pets when they move house. Why didn’t you ask Vicky to take them? Or me, for that matter? I could get one of my friends to look after them. She loves cats and has her own property.”
“I thought about that but it’s so much to ask of someone.”
“How much does it cost to board them?”
“Thirty five dollars a day.”
Hearing that astronomical rate, I offered to take them in to help him save money. That said, what’s thirty five dollars a day compared to the seventy dollars a day in rent Brett was paying just to house himself so he could live in the Eastern suburbs?
I was glad when he told me the woman feeds them and takes them out so they can play. I wonder if they have made any feline friends there.
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