Add this one to the "no good deed goes unpunished" file.
A couple of Saturdays ago a handsome gray cat showed up on my back deck, and as soon as I opened the storm door, he quickly scooted inside. He endeared himself to all and sundry and proved to be affectionate, good-tempered and tidy. His prime activity was napping in the sun on a pillow.
After no one claimed him on Facebook, and I saw no signs posted on telephone poles around here, I decided to give him a home myself and scheduled an appointment with the vet.
The vet checked to see if the cat was microchipped, and I was stunned and saddened to find out that he was. I left the cat at the office and they alerted the owner, who came and picked him up that afternoon.
I returned home with an empty cat carrier. I'd quickly gotten used to the dear critter waking me up, napping with me, and generally keeping me company around the house. And what shall I do with all the cat food, treats and paraphernalia I purchased? (Yes, that's a rhetorical question. We all know where this is going.)
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