Monday, April 11, 2022
I can’t relax for having left my handbag at work. Worst, having left it sitting on the break-room table. Here’s hoping I find it there this morning.
In that workplace, we are casual. Ladies leave purses and whatever around in the break room, guys, too, and most lockers stay unlocked. I’m a little tense, for only recently I started carrying a handbag. Forgetting to keep it safe signals an inattention that’s not good.
Two days ago, the warehouse guys discovered a feral cat’s nest high atop stacked straw. They were excited and invited me over to look at the kittens. I climbed onto the straw. Mom wasn’t around. The tiny babies weren’t bothered by my presence. Their eyes were open, so they were about three weeks old.
Soon, I learned that all the store’s workers knew about the nest. Many had climbed onto the straw and looked at the kittens. Everybody wanted to take them home. I hoped that nobody had touched them and wondered if momma cat would move them.
The guys knew the mom. They had seen her hunting often in areas where large items are stored. That afternoon, they discovered there had been a third kitten. It had fallen off the haystack and become stuck in an unfortunate spot.
Yesterday morning on arriving at work, I heard that the mom had moved her kittens. One of the young warehouse workers muttered to me, “I’m glad she moved them.”
I replied, “I’m glad she did too.”
Dear Friends: I once hand-raised two feral infant kittens, and loved them dearly. Diana