Willpower

Normally, I have none.  Zip.  Zero.  Nada.  Especially when it comes to kittens or puppies.  Or ice cream.  Or chocolate.  Or peaches, cherries, strawberries, blueberries…   I could go on, but you get the drift.  So when I was invited to a cookout at the Olive Branch Rescue today, it should surprise and impress you that I did not come home with one of these.

 

They were cute.  They were cuddly.  They really wanted to chew on my fingers.  So I let them. 

This one had better things to chew on, but he still tried so desperately to impress me.

 

As I walked away, their crying and whimpering broke my heart. 

 

I tried so hard not to go back into the cat house.  I did, I really truly did.  I had already been in there once, for just a minute, and the overflowing kitten population had just been too much.  I was afraid if I went back in, I’d bring one home.  Or two.  Or ten.  I told myself in no uncertain terms was I going back in there.

 

Of course I did.  Was there any doubt??

 

 

Oh no, I’ve been spotted.

 

Oh kitten, please don’t.  You just don’t understand how weak I am.

 

Or maybe you do.

 

That one was so close to coming home with me.  I can’t tell you what a close call it was.  When I finally clawed and pulled myself out of the cat house, I felt relief wash over me at the freedom I had gained.  Yes!  I had done it!  I had proven to myself that I did at least have a smidgen of willpower.

Then this rubbed against my leg and purred.

 

I made the mistake of petting the needy little thing for a minute, then it wouldn’t leave my side.  He followed me everywhere and I was afraid he would jump in the truck with me and I’d be forced to take him home.  Luckily, someone else petted him and he became their problem. 

It was a long hard day fraught with emotion, danger around every corner, and a tremendous sense of inadequacy. 

One that I wish to repeat tomorrow, please.