My First Kitten
December 5th 2007 21:05
I had always wanted a real pet. By real I mean an animal that you can play with and one that peed and pooed all over the place. So by my definition, my parent’s humble goldfish didn’t qualify as there wasn’t much I could do with them.
So when I was in second grade, a girl who lived nearby was giving away some kittens. She had one left over and asked me if I wanted it. I took one look at the poor ginger coloured tabby cat that was in a small cardboard box and said yes. I didn’t even think about how my parents would react; I simply assumed they would take one look at the poor defenceless thing like I did and their hearts would be instantly won over.
But like many childhood whims, this one did not go according to plan. I brought the kitten home and gave it a saucer of milk to drink. The kitten didn’t seem interested in drinking but it did enjoy splashing around in the milk. It also miaowed a lot. I was wondering how to entertain it when my parents came home.
“What have you got there?” asked my mother. I showed her the kitten and she hit the roof. “Where did you get that from? Who said you could get a cat? Do you know how much it takes to look after a cat?” On and on she went, ranting and raving about flea treatments and the fact she thought I was too young to look after a kitten. In the end, she made me give the kitten back to the girl. I was mortified but in hindsight, I think my mother had a point: one should not have an animal around unless they were willing to take full responsibility for taking care of it. A six year old could hardly be trusted to look after a kitten without mum’s help and my mum was unwilling to accept that responsibility.
So when I was in second grade, a girl who lived nearby was giving away some kittens. She had one left over and asked me if I wanted it. I took one look at the poor ginger coloured tabby cat that was in a small cardboard box and said yes. I didn’t even think about how my parents would react; I simply assumed they would take one look at the poor defenceless thing like I did and their hearts would be instantly won over.
But like many childhood whims, this one did not go according to plan. I brought the kitten home and gave it a saucer of milk to drink. The kitten didn’t seem interested in drinking but it did enjoy splashing around in the milk. It also miaowed a lot. I was wondering how to entertain it when my parents came home.
“What have you got there?” asked my mother. I showed her the kitten and she hit the roof. “Where did you get that from? Who said you could get a cat? Do you know how much it takes to look after a cat?” On and on she went, ranting and raving about flea treatments and the fact she thought I was too young to look after a kitten. In the end, she made me give the kitten back to the girl. I was mortified but in hindsight, I think my mother had a point: one should not have an animal around unless they were willing to take full responsibility for taking care of it. A six year old could hardly be trusted to look after a kitten without mum’s help and my mum was unwilling to accept that responsibility.
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