Under Santa’s Winnebago

She’s always waiting there, meowing her Siamese-like meow, reminding me that she’s hungry—or lonely. Rosie isn’t my cat; she belongs to my neighbor. It’s a long story. My neighbor’s daughter has moved back in and, sadly, has brought a big orange cat. A bully cat who traumatizes poor little Rosie. So, instead of going to my neighbor’s door (her home) she shows up at my neighbor’s house—under the Winnebago. We secretly say that our neighbor is Santa Claus. He looks just like him and when we hear him tinkering over there, hammering at all hours, we say he’s making toys. And the Winnebago is the sleigh he takes to the North Pole (although he says they go on road trips to go birding).

SantaWinnebagoI know I should just let her fend for herself at her house. . . but. I just don’t understand people and their pets. How can you just let another cat come in and bully a cat you’ve had for years? It’s just not right. So, I do what I feel is right and I give her a few pets and tell her she’s a good girl, and feed her good food that she won’t get across the street. My little kitty, Rocky, likes Rosie and I always get that little childhood rhyme stuck in my head-Rocky and Rosie sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G; First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Rosie with a baby carriage . . .” I want to invite her in, but Kevin says no. Maybe things will change. I’m keeping my fingers crossed since it’s Christmas and at Christmas, magical things happen!


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