Sad news cats

Our landlord hates life, apparently, including kitties and puppies and rainbows and sunbeams, so we cannot have pets without paying another $500 (on top of the security deposit) and an extra $50 a month on top of that.

So when I found a stray barn kitten at my mom's, I had to tearfully give it to my brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law to raise for me for a few months until we moved into our new house. After all, I'm pretty sure hiding a cat just isn't going to happen. Dave agrees. No pet 'til the holidays, he says. Maybe later.

Sigh. OK, OK.

But word came late Friday night, in the form of a picture message (of the kitten watching TV at my brother's apartment), and then in a follow-up text message. Word was not good. Word is, the kitten is never going to get to the Badger State. No. He's a Buckeye. Forever. That's right. My brother reneged on our deal. The little guy was too cute to give up.

What can I say? Well, OK, to be honest I thought of a few things. One, "remember that time in college when you ran over my cat in the driveway, and broke the news to me over a bowl of cereal --'Pass the milk, by the way, sorry I killed your cat'?" Two, "remember that time you said you'd just keep him for me for a little bit?" But that is not what polite people say. Besides, he is kinda cute. The cat, I mean.

Polite people say nothing -- or text nothing back -- and just go on with their lives, sans cat. Little Julius Sumner Miller, the cat in question, is now Julius Caesar (apparently, they have more respect for history than they do a good PBS physics guy). And I don't think I'll ever see him again. Again, I mean the cat.

I guess this means we can get a dog. And the humane society's filled with cats.

But, let's have a moment of silence for Julius Sumner Miller. The cat and the physicist (above, from cadbury.com/au).

And no, I do not want your cat's kittens right now. I am in mourning.