Why were you there, what were you doing?

I am watching Ronny's kitten, just for a day or two. She is living in the bathroom, with the door shut. The litter is stifling in the small space, smelling of ammonia. I know nothing of kittens. I know this one is funny looking, and revels in excessive biting. Regrette, my enormous puppy, is terrified of the five pound creature who has invaded her living space. Warden sits with his nose at the gap between the bottom of the bathroom door and the floor, wagging his tail and making whiny noises.

This kitten, such a small thing, has upset the careful balance we have achieved in this tiny apartment. Regrette has brought back the deuce-nuisance. Warden just isn't himself. Neither am I. This is such a temporary change that I think we are all just annoyed that we have to do any work adapting in the short term. Annoyed. We are annoyed. We are also fascinated. And scared.

Ronny is sailing with his daughter and son-in-law in Lake Erie. Ronny loves swimming but hates sailing. He also hates his son-in-law. He is insufferable, a stick-in-the-mud, Ronny says. He sails not because he enjoys it, but rather because he likes to tell people that he sails and has a 40 foot sailboat. I think I would like to have a sailboat. My mom always said, "don't own a boat, know someone who owns a boat." I've never forgotten that little piece of advice. Maybe Ronny only hates sailing because of his son-in-law. After all, who hates sailing, but loves water? Think of being a sailor hundreds of years ago, back when it was the most efficient way to get around. Riding the wind! Wow!

And so we sit there, Warden, Regrette and I, staring at the bathroom door, listening to the sounds of a kitten crying and running around batting things around on the floor and tearing up rolls of toilet paper. The kitten was left on Ronny's porch. Did you know that actually happened to anyone? That is the story Ronny tells. Perhaps it is a lie. Maybe he adopted the kitten at the shelter, but doesn't want anybody to think that he is the kind of person who would adopt a kitten.

We are still sitting there, now listening to some Conway Twitty, when Warden starts howling, and I start crying.

We are still sitting there when Ronny calls and asks how Kitty is doing. "Great," I say, and I sound like I mean it. Ronny should at least think that Kitty is having a good time. She probably is.

Eventually, I get a bowl from the fridge and toss some fresh peppered lavender butter into it. I let Kitty out of the bathroom and put her on the table with the butter. I call Warden and Regrette in hopes of organizing some sort of communion. Communing with butter.

Regrette is still scared, but eventually everyone partakes from the dish. It is a moment.

Right now, it is all we have.