Lydia stood at the top of the steps and yelled down. “Mom, Brian just texted me and asked if we could take care of his cat this weekend.”
I yelled back, “Sure.”
A few seconds passed.
Lydia continued, “He wants to know if you’ll give him his injections.”
“Only if I can write about it,” I replied.
A few more seconds passed.
Lydia: “Of course.”
So I did. Link.
One thought on “What I’ll do for a story”
Years ago I cat-sat for friends with a diabetic cat, but he was a little more tractable than Jimmy (the Cat not the Husband).