He was crouched down low, and he looked more like a little rock than a living thing. If we left him on the street, the next car was certainly going to run over him (and already I could feel the headlights at my back. So we loaded him into Cookee's bike basket, so we could inspect him, give him a good meal, and maybe search for his family in the morning.
That was around three weeks ago. He was inquisitive and fearless, so I called him Sherlock. I'd always loved that name, and vowed to name something in my life Sherlock (my laptop is already named Mycroft). Lucky for my unborn children, here is a kitten to take the name. Of course, over the past week, he's displayed a great skill for and a great love of climbing, so sometimes I call him Reinhold Messner.
But he is cuuuuuuuute. That was the deciding factor, actually. If he were ugly, we would've given him a good meal and left him back on the street. Just kidding! We would've left him somewhere safe, of course. ;)
On a related note, I met Janis Cushnie last week, a couple of days before she was scheduled to fly out back to England after SIX YEARS as a volunteer in Guyana. The good woman says that finding (a)a husband; and (b) a cat were the two things that helped her get through her six years in the regions. This is related to Sherlock, because Janis gave me a detailed list of people to contact should I decide, at the end of my term, to bring Sherlock home. She won this information the hard way after she decided to bring her cat home to England. She also told me to kiss my end of service grant goodbye should I decide to do that, because it costs a whole chunk of money.
That said, here's the Kaieteur News article on Janis Cushnie. No mention of her cat, though.
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