|Tiger and his Best friend…Charlie|
Many of us are all too familiar, even those of us that were the Captains and did the picking, the agony of team picking. The big guys always got chosen first, the pretty girls next, the funny kid next and, the new kids next and, me, the dork who was also new… last.
So if you have compassion for the kid who gets picked last, think about the teenage size kitty in the cute kitten section of the SPCA feels , and you will know why we just HAD to pick Tiger. Since we got him home he has been: Luther, Joe, Joey, Buddy, Teddy and finally and I think permanently, Tiger. He is basically the boy version of Lucy, except at 4 months young, he weighs what Lucy weighed full grown. His name should be “Tank”. His paws are like actual tigers paws, big and dense and tufts of fur between each toe. His golden eyes would almost be intimidating if not for his ears that have so much old man fluff coming out of them, he needs barretes. It was love at first sight, and in the quietest of moments, when I miss Lucy most, his rumbling purr, and butting head, fill the silence and soften the blow of her loss.
Before we brought him out of the car and into the house , Cooper said “I just gotta go see Lucy for a minute and talk to her. Wait for me”. I figured he was going to tell her about Tiger who at that time was still Joey. At bedtime, I (I am so nosey) asked him, “Did you have a nice talk with Lucy, did you tell her about the new kitty?” he said “yeah, I said, Hi Lucy, I miss you. I told her what I did in school and that my teacher gave me a book to read about losing a cat named Barney. I was so busy I forgot to tell her about Teddy (he was Teddy at bedtime).” He sighed, “I will have to tell her tomorrow, night Mom, Thanks for taking me to the SPCA.”
1 thought on “Pick me!”
the ignominy of being picked last—-know it all too well
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