Tuesday morning was windy. It was so windy, I mentioned to Paul if I was still living in New York, I’d think a hurricane was coming, but this is western Nebraska, so it was just windier than usual. It would also turn out to be a good day.
On Saturday, July 7, 2018, Paul was driving east on 42nd Street. As he passed the hospital, he saw an animal wobbling across the road. He thought it was a squirrel and thought he’d better check it out. When he did, discovered a little kitten, about five or six weeks old, was nearly blind from the conjunctivitis and goop oozing from his eyes. Paul picked up the kitten and brought him home.
Sometimes the purring wakes me up.
It’s 4:30 a.m. Without opening my eyes, I can feel her head nuzzled on my collar bone. She’s only partially awake, but I must disturb her so I can begin my day.
Like clockwork, she comes near me at 7:20 a.m. She extends her left paw toward me for head scratchings and belly rubs before I head out the door.