Tied, Even

Mom here: Last night I came home to an extra loving Cookie. She was all lovey dovey and all over me. I held up the collar and allowed her to attack it.

This morning, after my 3 am trip to the restroom, I did slip the collar on Cookie's head without even a protest. It's as if we had both decided it wasn't worth the pain of yesterday's struggle. She is a good girl underneath her grumpy exterior.

I've never told anyone how I found her. She showed up at my school on a rainy day. During recess my next door neighbour teacher complained about a crying cat outside her window. I agreed to take her. It turned out to be Cookie, a three month old or so brown tabby. At lunch I ran out to the nearest 7 and 11 and bought her food and litter. Made her a makeshift litter box. She ate for 20 minutes straight then curled up into one of my students laps and fell asleep for the rest of the day. The poor thing hadn't eaten or rested in a long time.

Later on that day I heard that "she belonged to" a boy and his cousin. I asked for them to come speak to me. They did claim the girl as theirs. I wasn't going to give her up without a fight because of how hungry and sleepy she'd been. I called their parents and they said that the boys had been bringing her into the house, but whenever the mom or the aunt discovered her they would chase her out with a broom. So my little girl had a very rough start at life. When she awoke from her nap her first action towards me was to bite my fingers as I had waved them in front of her face. I knew she was going to be a character. She was named by my class after the main character in "Cookie's Week." I vowed never to let a class name a cat again because they leave me but the cat name stays. When Sophie showed up last Spring, I insisted on naming her. I can't remember what that group wanted to name her, Victoria I think. That's all for now. Lynn