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A Case of Mistaken Identity

by Mark Edwards, Arlington, Texas, USA

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Poor Little Feet. He was a victim of a rank poseur this morning.

As usual, I am in my morning rush to get out the door and on the way to work. On top of that, I'm really feeling ill this morning, so my head is not very clear either.

I have my computer tote-bag, with laptop, books, and other "necessary" electronic toys, slung over my shoulder. I have a bottle of cold Diet Coke, and a fresh mug of Darjeeling tea in one hand, the door key in the other hand.

Sometimes on the way out, I have Lady and Spot waiting at the door for me. They were there this morning. Momentarily. They both used toook advantage of full hands and open door, to enter the apartment.

Lady is a grey and white, Norwegian Forest Cat looking cat. Spot is a slim and sleek orange tabby with stripes that break down into spottedness on her sides.

Oh yes, Little Feet is an orange, striped tabby.

I put stuff down, and grab Lady, and put Lady outside. I grab Spot and put her outside. I grab my stuff, carefully exit the door, and head off into the sunrise to fight traffic.

A little way down the road, I start feeling really bad. Really, really. So I turn around and head home.

As I pull into my parking spot, I see Lady and Spot.

Wait a minute, that is an orange cat, but it isn't Spot. In fact, it looks an awful lot like Little Feet! Yikes!

I leave my stuff in the car for a moment, and the orange cat seems nervous and just a little scared. I pick him up. It is LittleFeet!

Oh my goodness! I am so ashamed and mad at myself. I put Little Feet inside, and grab my stuff from the car.

Inside, there is Spot, prancing around as if she owned the joint, obviously very pleased that she managed to replace one of the regular house cats. She also got Little Feet's little bit of cereal milk, and managed to rub herself all over Senyah's legs.

Senyah says she thought Little Feet was acting unusually affectionate this morning. She says she wasn't sure, but that Little Feet didn't look quite the same. Both cats are about the same size, but Spot is a bit sleeker, with a more pronounced muzzle, and "spotted stripes".

I put Spot back outside, and have been spending the rest of this morning trying to get a doctor's appointment (Senyah is really sick too, poor baby!), worshipping at the porcelain, and loving on Little Feet.

I could have sworn that Spot and Presto both gave Little Feet smug looks, and winked at each other.

Poor tiger. I have a feeling he isn't going to let me live this down for awhile...

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Editor's note:

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