Hello All,
As you may know, Megan recently returned from Middlebury's Breadloaf Writer's Conference...well, she wasn't as much there as she was here, commuting 2 hours back and forth from Shaftsbury to Middlebury on an almost daily basis so she could change diapers and calm tantrums.
A day into Breadloaf, Megan received a call from a neighbor stating they had found a stray cat, possibly our missing grey cat Greta. Just picture a happy, hopeful Megan speeding back to Shaftsbury, only to find a scrawny petite cat in the neighbor's yard who was obviously not grey, and obviously not our beloved Greta.
But of course the empathetic Megan couldn't just leave this cat. She has a perpetually bleeding heart.
"She's a 1-2 year old petite girl who might have some fleas," Megan told me on the phone, as she headed back to Breadloaf after depositing the crated cat at the clinic.
Turns out that she was a he - and more likely 13 years old. He most certainly had fleas. A quick physical exam revealed he had 4 remaining teeth of the original 30.
His knees creak when walking, but he's a loveable old gentlemen and the techs at WMAH fixed him right up, washing the flea dirt away, putting weight back on his bones. Already he's endeared himself to the front desk.
As you may know, Megan recently returned from Middlebury's Breadloaf Writer's Conference...well, she wasn't as much there as she was here, commuting 2 hours back and forth from Shaftsbury to Middlebury on an almost daily basis so she could change diapers and calm tantrums.
A day into Breadloaf, Megan received a call from a neighbor stating they had found a stray cat, possibly our missing grey cat Greta. Just picture a happy, hopeful Megan speeding back to Shaftsbury, only to find a scrawny petite cat in the neighbor's yard who was obviously not grey, and obviously not our beloved Greta.
But of course the empathetic Megan couldn't just leave this cat. She has a perpetually bleeding heart.
"She's a 1-2 year old petite girl who might have some fleas," Megan told me on the phone, as she headed back to Breadloaf after depositing the crated cat at the clinic.
Turns out that she was a he - and more likely 13 years old. He most certainly had fleas. A quick physical exam revealed he had 4 remaining teeth of the original 30.
His knees creak when walking, but he's a loveable old gentlemen and the techs at WMAH fixed him right up, washing the flea dirt away, putting weight back on his bones. Already he's endeared himself to the front desk.
Of all the cats that have crossed my path, he's one of the most gentle. Even while shaking my head in disbelief that Megan was suckered into taking him in, and then myself suckered into taking him in, she somehow picked the right cat. "He needs a noble wilderness name, like Emerson or Thoreau," Megan instructed me, leaving the scrawny, flea-bitten cat in my care.
Sorry, dear, but you were at Breadloaf - and we named him Gomer.
Sorry, dear, but you were at Breadloaf - and we named him Gomer.
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