This morning, as weary commuters power-walked up 23rd Avenue, this little guy was angling for access to the Zorba's Souvlaki kitchen window and the tough-guy line cook making bemused faces at him behind it.
Because he was so tiny and hungry and collarless, I stuck around. Ready to take him home as a playmate for the Timberwolf and feed him Oreos and milk until he was up to mouse-catching strength and body weight. But I live in Astoria now. So the mustachioed owner emerged (just like the benevolent Woodsman in a fairy tale) and scooped the little fellow to his belly. Just like that. He was no longer alone and afraid on a cold morning.
That's right, bitches. My neighborhood sticks up for kittens.
Because he was so tiny and hungry and collarless, I stuck around. Ready to take him home as a playmate for the Timberwolf and feed him Oreos and milk until he was up to mouse-catching strength and body weight. But I live in Astoria now. So the mustachioed owner emerged (just like the benevolent Woodsman in a fairy tale) and scooped the little fellow to his belly. Just like that. He was no longer alone and afraid on a cold morning.
That's right, bitches. My neighborhood sticks up for kittens.
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1 comment:
i stick up for mittens!
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