Moss, is humor writer from Tennessee. She writes a
weekly human interest column about daily life and the funny
things that happen to everyone.
She has written for the Daily News of Kingsport, Griffin Journal,
Oakridge Now, Atlanta Woman Magazine, Aberdeen Examiner, Angleton
Advocate, and Smyrna AM, a supplement of the Murfreesboro Daily News
Journal. She has been
published by Voyageur Press, McGraw Hill, and the good folks
at Guidepost Books. Her articles have appeared in
numerous anthologies and other publications, both in print and online.
She is a
former board member and past Editor of the Columnists.com, website of the National Society of Newspaper
oldest and largest professional organization
for columnists. She is the Web Editor of
Humorists.com and a founder of the Southern Humorists writers'
organization. She is writer, editor, and webmaster of HumorColumnist.com.
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Online Since 1999
a Stray Cat
cat began hanging around our house this week. Actually, it is
more of a kitten that has reached the stage when you realize
that, like other kittens, it will eventually become a cat. It
was wearing a pink collar.
I had to run it out from under the car to be sure we didn’t
run over it. I thought it would go home. “Scat, kitty!”
I later caught my grandson playing with it. “You can’t
have that cat,” I said. “It has on a collar. It belongs to
It spent the night on the patio on top of the gas grill.
“Don’t you dare feed that cat,” I told my daughter.
“It will never go home if you feed it. It must be lost.”
We checked with the neighbors, and no one claimed it.
"Maybe it belongs across the street. They have
cats." It had to belong to someone; it had on a collar.
“I don’t want another cat. We have a cat, not to mention
two dogs and a fish,” I said.
The next night it was again on top of the gas grill crying.
“It can’t come inside. It belongs to someone and they will
be looking for it.” It would not stop crying. It was driving
I noticed my honey continuing to make trips to the kitchen
during the evening. Every time he came back there was a cat
“It’s really getting hungry.”
“It’s crying to come inside.”
“It’s afraid of the fireworks.”
“It is going to starve to death.”
“Do you want to be responsible for starving an animal to
Finally, I could stand it no longer. “All right, let it
inside but it’s going to be YOUR cat!” He couldn’t get
to the door fast enough, and soon the kitten was inside
gleefully drinking a saucer of milk.
When my grandson could not find the cat outside, he was upset.
“Have you seen….the CAT!?” The cat was sitting on the
back of the sofa smiling.
“What’s that cat doing inside?” “Can we keep it? Can
it be my cat? Can I name it?”
I still held out hope that it belonged across the street. Fat
chance. When we checked, the neighbor said it had hung out at
his house for a day or two, then got in a fight with his cat
and he hasn’t seen it since. Of course not, it lives on my
gas grill now.
Maybe we could put up a sign, “Found, gray and white cat
with pink collar.” My daughter made the sign, but no one
The cat has moved it lock, stock and barrel now. It climbs on
our laps and purrs. It gets in the beds at night. It finds cat
toys, like pens, string, paper wads and anything that dares to
move. A scratch on its lip from the neighbor’s catfight
makes it appear to constantly be smiling. I'm sure that it is
just the scratch.
“Did you ever think that cat would be inside when we
couldn’t find it?” my grandson asked his mother. I don’t
know about her, but I didn’t think so.
The cat now owns the house, chasing its own tail, climbing on
the furniture, eating us out of house and home, and tormenting
the dogs. It has catnip toys, a name, and an appointment with
the vet for a checkup and shots.
And that’s how we ended up being adopted by the stray cat.
But it has on a pink collar - it must belong to someone.
Copyright 2004 Sheila Moss
Nashville, TN 37219
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