Saturday, December 21, 2013

Jetpack the Cat

Pete loves cats.

He obviously gets this affinity for cats from me, his father.

A week or two ago, we drove to the south of the city to a used car dealer by the sea to look at a used Mahindra Scorpio. We didn't end up buying the car, but did almost come home with a ten-day old kitten.

I've recently backed off my promises to buy a cat upon discovering a sleek black cat hanging around outside. Occasionally, he can be spotted napping in the sun on the windowsill, tucked behind the metal grate over the window.

When we did talk about getting a cat, Pete and Sam talked about names. Pete wanted to call him "Jetpack".

Yesterday, Elise and Pete went grocery shopping. Pete insisted they buy a tiny plastic dish for 10 rupees (16 U.S. cents). He also wanted to buy a giant bag of cat food, too, but this was neither cheap nor, in anyone's estimation except Peter's, a good idea. We didn't want the black cat to become too attached or we'd end up ultimately becoming responsible for his well-being and never getting rid of him. I'd already had to say goodbye to one cat and if there was one thing that I am most afraid of when it comes to cats is having to say goodbye to another one.

Pete tried the hard sell when it can to the bag of cat food, promising Elise that he would love and "protect" (his words) the cat, but he was happy enough to settle for the plastic dish.

This morning, we poured a small amount of milk in the plastic dish and set in front of the window in the kitchen where he likes to nap before heading out. When we got home from our morning outing, Jetpack was happily lapping the milk from the bowl.

It appears, now, that we do, indeed, have a cat, and his name is Jetpack. 

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