“Is that a cat?” I asked, as we walked through the bird sanctuary. It was. An adorable fluffy grey tabby kitten who was desperate for company. He followed us the whole time and the kids played and played with him. Since he is just about the right size (about a pound and a half, I guess) for a tasty owl snack or raccoon morsel, and the Audubon Society is not fond of feral cats, we took him home. Besides, he looked thin. I guess his angels were looking out for him, because we went to the sanctuary at a very unusual time on an unusual day. I suggested we name him Forrest, because we found him in a forest. My daughter said, “No, he’s so friendly, we should name him Friendly.” Maybe we should have called him “Hungry,” because he’s probably eaten his body weight in cat food today. The other cats are starting to come around. There’ve been no hissing-spitting-swinging-claws-of-demon-fury attacks today.
I was all set to enter my Irish ghost story tween mss in the Delacorte First Novel contest. I re-read the rules and, to my shock and horror, the story must be set in North America. They also have a YA contest, open from Oct 1 – Dec 31. Perhaps I’ll enter Troll in that one. I’m trying to concurrently Deep EDIT and Breakout Novel Workbook my ghost story, then I’ll do Troll. I should be getting my Assignment 3 feedback from the ICL class I’m taking any day now, so I’ll jump into number 4. Can you say “Red Bull?”