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updated: Apr 09, 2011, 9:00 AM
This is my cat Katie and her story. And like most stories do, this one begins on a dark and stormy night in Oregon. I was reading in the living room, when I happened to look out the picture window and spotted a tiny, scrawny, black and white kitten with a crooked tail, her paws pressed against the glass. I didn't know where she had come from, and I felt horrible that she was soaking wet. But we had other cats in the home already, and I couldn't let her in. So, I ignored as best I could and forgot about her for that night. But she stayed on, and the next morning it appeared she hadn't budged from her spot. This pattern continued for about a week before the guilt finally got to me. One evening, before my husband returned from work, I took matters into my own hands, ushered her inside, and let her feed before casting her back to the porch. For the next seven days, I secretly let her in to eat dinner. Until one day, my husband stated that he had a confession. Seeing her sweet, little masked face every morning, he was wracked with guilt, and had begun letting her into the house to eat breakfast with him after I had left for work! And thus, Katie, ever the charmer, adopted our family, and stole our hearts.
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