Fake_Brosefka

Last Halloween, some time in the late afternoon, my partner and I were getting our house and selves ready for our typical setup, whereby we scare the neighborhood kids, entertain the adults, and pass out a hell of a lot of candy. All of a sudden I hear a weird noise (that I had heard a few times in the past week or so) and look up to see a cat cautiously walking toward me out from the corner where we keep the trash cans, meowing, with a pretty desperate look on her face. She was the thinnest cat I’d ever seen in my life, like a skeleton with a little bit of thin fur stretched across. She looked dazed, weak, and confused. She was so malnourished that she looked elderly to me, turns out she was probably less than a year old. Our neighborhood has a HUGE population of these invasive Eurasian Collared Doves. They’re not very smart and not very fast. The stray cats in the area seem to be feasting on them, judging by the feathers and parts of them I see all over the place. There are actually fat strays here, I think because of these dumb birds. Clearly this cat was not a successful hunter. The last two years have been really hard on me for a number of reasons. I’ve dealt with enough tragedy for a lifetime, and it’s still going on. I’m still figuring myself out and where I fit into the world now. She was just as scared and sad as me, and although the causes of her problems are different, she seemed just as sad and scared and lost as I was. I’m not much of a cat person but I do have a heart, so I went inside and grabbed a small can of wet dog food that I had, dumped it into a bowl, and took it outside and gave it to her. She ate every bite, rubbed on my legs a little bit, and then left. A few days later she came back, and pretty much the same events took place. Eventually I went to petco and got some actual cat food for her, and started giving that to her. I noticed that when other stray cats (and some with homes) would smell the food and come looking around, that she would immediately take a low and submissive posture and try to just slink away, so I started standing over her while she ate, and not letting the other cats get close. She started to learn my patterns, when I leave for work in the morning, when I get home, and would meet me in the driveway pretty often, so I left the cans and a clean bowl by the door so I could grab them for her. After a week or two of this, I figured the only decent thing to do was take her to the vet, get her shots and checked out for parasites and stuff, and bring her home and introduce her to the dogs. We named her Pumpkin because we first met her on Halloween. Over the last ten months, it has taken a lot of work (and money) to get all her health problems taken care of, and get some actual weight on her to the point that she finally kind of looks like a normal cat. She’s happy, and comfortable, and loves us and the dogs. She no longer worries about where she will sleep or what she will eat. When she lays in my lap at night after work, and lays her little head on my chest, I can feel through her warmth that I fixed her problems. She’s not scared and alone and hungry anymore. It makes me feel just a little bit better to know that, for everything else I’ve done, for everything Ive gotten wrong, I also did this one thing right. I’ll always have that. I have a cat now. I have become a cat person in some small way.

Most effective centrist dem strategy: “we need to get guys like the guys who lost elections so that we can win elections”

Average Tesla enthusiast. About as sharp as a sack of wet mice.

This tweet hits different now.

They’re not sending their best.

Centrist democrats remain steadfast in their hated of the primary process. Their hatred burns with the fire of one thousand suns.