I own a cat, well, I don’t guess I actually own it. It showed up on our front porch a few weeks ago seeking shelter during a rainstorm. I was out of town and my son Hunter texted me a picture of a soaking wet, little orange kitten curled up by our front door. It was the size of a baked potato and probably weighed less.

Hunter did not want to leave it outside in the elements, so together we decided to place it in the garage until the rain stopped, then we would send it on its way to find its family.

That was two weeks ago. We made the critical error of feeding it, and the little, orange, kitty has taken up shop in our garage. I guess you can say it has staked its claim and it ain’t going nowhere, at least not for now. And nobody has posted any “lost kitten” signs up on the light poles in our neighborhood.

Hunter went ahead and named the kitten T.C. He said it stands for “The Cat.”

That is a good name. It’s a she.

It has been a tough balance though due to the fact that we have two large Labrador Retrievers in our house, Cash and Lucy. My dog Cash weighs 135 pounds and is not considered a cat lover. Now I don’t think he would hurt it, but he may accidentally mistake it for a milk bone and swallow it whole. Hunter’s dog Lucy has lost her napping spot in the garage for now, and she’s not too happy about it.

They both know the kitten is in there, they are just not sure what to do about it.

What I have found interesting is this little kitty loves Hunter. She will climb up on his lap, sit on his shoulder, and curl up next to him while he is sitting in his chair playing video games in the garage.

If I get anywhere near the kitten, it acts like it has just seen the grim reaper and darts off to a corner and hides behind a stack of boxes. The kitten hates me, and all I ever did was buy food for it and provide shelter. That kitten ain’t grateful!

All my dog Cash wants in life is to be with me. That’s it. He follows me around the house, sits down next to me when I sit down, climbs up on the bed and lies next to me, and beats me to the car when I head out the door to go somewhere.

When I leave town, he stares out the window until I get back. He just wants to make me happy and be my pal.’ Cash is grateful.

I came across this on the internet. I am learning it to be true:

DOG THINKING:

“My owner feeds me, plays with me, rubs my ears, and scratches my belly. My owner loves me and provides my every need. My owner must be God.”

CAT THINKING:

“My owner feeds me, plays with me, rubs my ears, and scratches my belly. My owner loves me and provides my every need. I must be God.”

I find it funny that a three-pound kitten acts as if it is my responsibility and moral obligation to meet its every need. Meanwhile, my 135-pound dog just wants to ride shotgun in my truck.

Now don’t get me wrong. I like T.C., she just doesn’t like me. But maybe if I continue to meet her every need, she will warm up to me and allow me to be a part of her life…other than the food, water, and shelter thing I’m already providing.

So, we will see if T.C. decides to stick around, or go seek better living accommodations elsewhere.

Until then, I own two large dogs, and one tiny cat owns me.

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Todd Howey is a columnist for BrownwoodNews.com whose articles appear on Fridays. Email comments to [email protected].