Well, here he is. The Beloved Mr. Jones. I first met Mr. Jones outside of my old house. I was walking someone out to their car at night and when they turned on their lights, there he was just sitting by the curb...the cuttest little thing you have ever seen. I couldn't resist. He was such a little thing, so poor and defenseless, I couldn't help but pick him up and bring him up to the porch. (I will pause here to let you all know, incase you didn't already, that I have NOT always been a cat lover. I used to call all 7 of Whitney Shanhouse's (friend from high school) cats "Tito" because I didn't care enough about them to learn their real names...even now I can't tell you what they were.)
I couldn't just let the poor little thing go off wandering into the night, digging through trash cans for food! So, much to Tiffany's dismay, I gave the little kitten some milk...from her ceramic heart bowl. Yeah, that didn't last very long. The next day I caved and bought some cat food from the store. And from then on, he was my little Mr. Jones (well, he was Maia at first, but we had to change the name after he, um, matured a bit.)
Well, Mr. Jones has moved to a new home. It was time. As I have moved to Ft. Worth for this semester (more on this to come in later posts) I could not be responsible, or have others be responsible, for him anymore the way he deserved. He is in a good home, the best one he could posibly have. He has much more land to wander, pounce, and prance around in. He will like it there.
So, Godspeed, Mr. Jones. Be good for Lane and Amy. Don't be afraid of Kingsley (their great dane) and Ruby. Be a good hunter and take out those pesky squirrels for them. And most importantly, don't run away, you won't get fed that way! Love you Jonesy.
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