Let me tell you about Miss Kitty. She’s a cat . . . Once a kitten who came to my daughter’s back door looking for food and of course was feed and named.

She was tiny and no one guessed pregnant.  At a young age, probably only eight months, she gave birth to seven kittens, lovingly nursed them all and hid them under a kitchen appliance for their own protection. My daughter found homes for all her kittens and assured me, although Miss Kitty was coming to Florida, it wouldn’t be for long.

Well, that hasn’t happened. Now Miss Kitty and I are at home alone, frequently. She greets me in the morning while I’m sitting on the toilet. If my insulin pump’s alarm signals a low reaction and I don’t hear it, she jumps on my bed to wake me.

But she zooms around the house looking for playmates. When my husband was alive the house was active with care givers and what not. The television was on all day. I turn the TV on when I’m going to sit and watch a program.

I like the quiet. It has its own sound. A comforting silence.

I hope to be traveling soon and sure friends will come and care for her. Don’t get me wrong. I love Miss Kitty, but she’s young and should be having the time of her life.

She could go live with her two sons in Rhode Island.  What do you think?

                                                                                    . . . just saying

If you haven’t read my first novel Morningside Drive, it’s available everywhere on line.