El gato has a new home. One of my co-workers and his wife wanted him, so we put him in a carrier and drove him to his new owners last night. He meowed, scratched and complained the whole way. When I lifted him out of the carrier and placed him in the wife’s arms, he scrambled up her arm and nestled into her neck.
A heart-warming scene if there ever was one.
What I didn’t know was that there was a dog in the picture, too. He was shut out in the garage while we did the handover in the living room. I asked what kind of dog they had because the racket he was making at the garage door sounding like he was the size of a bear and I was afraid we’d be taking el gato back home with us.
“With that noise?” I said.
“He knows something’s up,” he said.
I’ll say. It sounded like he was throwing himself against the door with all the force of a hurricane.
I had visions of fur flying and hissing and booing the instant the dog was allowed inside the house.
“Don’t worry, they’ll grow up to be friends,” my co-worker said with confidence.
I hope so, otherwise el gato I didn’t want will be back in our lives and we’ll have to give it a name. I’m thinking something like Recurring Rico.