A black and white cat walked past our window as we sat eating lunch yesterday. My kids were thrilled. I said, jokingly, "Why don't we steal it and name it Tallulah?" Then I started cracking up because I've already done that. I wasn't thinking when I said what I said, but I have "stolen" a cat and we did name it Tallulah. I mentioned this briefly in a post long ago that listed 100 things about me. I stole our neighbor's cat (really, it relocated to our shed and had kittens). Then I took said cat to a cat clinic, signed a form that said, yes this cat was mine, and had it fixed (neutered/spayed, whichever is for girl cats). Then we brought it home and considering that I'd just signed my name to it, we changed it's name from Mommy Cat to Tallulah, thanks to 2 1/2 year old Princess Sparkley. We then gave her kittens to a pet store. Tallulah almost made the move to Kansas with us. My parents weren't keen on us leaving her there. If she'd have cooperated upon being loaded in the moving truck, she would have made the drive to Kansas in a truck with Jed. AND we're not even cat people! And she probably wouldn't have survived the first winter here because there's no way I'm letting a cat IN my house. And it gets pretty cold out here. Actually, I think we were planning on donating her to my brother-in-law's up and coming farm. So she would have been eaten by dogs or coyotes by now. Which, was probably her fate being an outdoor cat in a rural part of California because it's been 3+ years, and her 9 lives are probably up.
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