Arrived home late last night. Cat shivered (out of fear, not the brutal 75 degree florida winter) in the front seat. Mom saw past the strategically placed magazine atop the carrying case, and circled my car to the passenger side like a tiger sizing up its prey. She opened the car door and asked what on earth was in the box. I told her it was a cub. She said I was not funny. McKenzie begged me to take it out. I asked Mom if she was OK, because her eyes looked like they would pop out of her head any second. Dad appeared out of nowhere, so I passed the crate to him and the family accompanied them inside as I continued to unload the car.
As I duckwalked to the house with a week's worth of overpacked luggage, Mom greeted me at the front door. Thankfully her eyes had retreated fully back into her skull.
"Courtney," she said, "it's a cat."
"Yes, Mom, I know. You said no dogs."
"But it's a full grown cat."
"Yeah, it's used. She's really great, though."
"I just didn't think you'd get a fully grown one. She's really sweet. And so beautiful."
When I got to my room, a towel had already been laid out for cub's food and water bowl. Welcome to the family, Cat.
Actually that wasn't what happened completely. Dad and I opened the door on the side of your car and then dad saw the cat and started talking and then mom came.
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