Yesterday
Yesterday “I’m too aggressive.” My mother said. “She won’t come out for me.” “Let me give it a try.” I said. It was May of 2005, and my mother had just brought home our new cat. She came in a vented box, which was designed to look like a house with a red-shingled roof. On the side was written I’m going home. Yet, I hadn’t seen the occupant of the box. She was in hiding under a bed we had in a spare room. Mom had brought her home while I was at work, and so I wouldn’t be able to see her until that evening. My mother had informed me that, “She looks like Oscar the Grouch.” To which I replied, “You didn’t bring home a Muppet, did you? She doesn’t have green fur, does she?” Thankfully, she did not. I was twenty-five years old at the time, and couldn’t resist getting it on it video. I set up my camera on a tripod, and then knelt in front of the bed. I then reached out with my left hand. I didn’t dare put it under the b