I've mentioned a time or two that I'm not particularly interested in obtaining an animal that I would need to take care of.

The three (boys) I have are quite enough, thankyouverymuch.

So when one day a few weeks ago, Cooper yelled, "MAMA! THERE'S A CAT ON OUR PORCH!!!"  I totally ignored him.

Cooper, that is.  Well, and the cat, too, really.

But the cat wasn't particularly interested in being ignored.

He stuck around, meowing and living on my front porch and just generally making his presence known.

He was friendly and polite and quite persistent.  He meowed and purred and tried to come in my house every chance he got.  He finally (sort of) got a clue that he ABSOLUTELY was not coming in and took up permanent residence on my front porch.  On my door mat.  Right in the way.

For several days, I took various pictures of this cat in various places around my house.  I used the hashtag #notmycat on Instagram and Twitter, and you'd be amazed at how many other people seemed to be sharing my exact plight.

Cats go where cats wanna go, I guess.

Zachary liked him.  But Cooper ADORED him.  

He talked of nothing else.  He ran to the window a million times a day to check up on the cat, to make sure he was still on our front porch.

He always was, by the way.

Cooper even brushed up on what he referred to as his "cat-speak."

And this went on for days.  And days.

And the cat was still here.

I could feel myself softening to the idea of a cat, THIS cat, just a little, and even started calling him Nomy (short for NOTMYCAT) in my head.  My sister has a cat named Scat, so this may just be some sort of family trait that I might want to keep off the internet.  Oops.  Too late.

Anyway, Nomy was here, and he appeared to be here to stay.  One memorable Saturday the boys played with this cat ALL. DAY. LONG.

And I softened to the idea even more.

And then one day when we got up, he was gone, just as suddenly as he had appeared.  The boys looked for him all over, but Nomy was gone.  Maybe he went back to his real house.  That's what I told the kids, anyway, but the truth is an outdoor cat probably doesn't have much chance out here in the boonies where I live.  

And I remembered why I didn't want a cat in the first place.

But when I pull in the driveway or walk out the front door, I still find myself looking to see if maybe he's back in his spot on the door mat.

So far he hasn't been, but I'm not going to totally discount the idea. 

He is a cat, after all, and cats go where cats wanna go.

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