A couple of Octobers ago, on a family trip to Salem, my children were given some money to spend as they pleased. There was no shortage of Halloween-themed merchandise in the stores. I believed they would have difficult choices ahead. My daughter, however, then around fifteen, made a purchase relatively quickly. Actually, very quickly. In the first store she entered. A purchase that she, and only she, was thrilled with.
It was the ugliest stuffed black cat I had ever seen. It wasn't plush. It wasn't posable. It wasn't well-crafted. It was simply a hard plastic cat form covered in a thin layer of cheap fur. I was appalled. I was then promptly reminded that I had said their money could be spent as they pleased. And I had said that.
So the hideous kitty returned home with us, riding in a place of prominence in the back seat of the car. Upon arrival at home, it suffered some damage to its tail when my faithful cat Lucky mistook it for an unwelcome intruder onto his territory. Unfortunately, it survived. Since then, it has remained in my daughter's room and mercifully, out of my sight.
Until now. After her most recent bedroom-cleaning, it appears that she has fallen out of love with hideous kitty. And so it has come to me. With instructions to "put it with the Halloween stuff".
I suppose I'll have to find a place for it. Somewhere. Or perhaps I can put it down next to Lucky. And let him finish the job he started.
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