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How to end animal homelessness

by Ben Rayman

Created on: November 24, 2008

My Seductress Southern Belle

The first time I ever saw her face, it was a gleaming bright sunny morning. The ground had been blanketed with a new fresh snow during the night. As I sat in the bay window of the kitchen clad only in my pajama bottom, cradling a hot steamy cup of coffee in my palms, the lenses of my eye glasses fogged up with every sip. I could tell the outdoors was frigid. I could feel the snow's crispness as it glistened with an ice-like hardness. I had to put on my robe until the heat took the chill off the room. Minutes later, my body was feeling regret because my mind did not want to surrender the warmness. However, I knew I had to get ready for work and brave the assault of the external coldness.

As I swung open the back door porch door, the wind slapped me in the face. I felt my facial skin tighten. I purged my lungs with the morning air and began to slowly pan my farthest surroundings. The outdoors gave me the feeling of purity; however that quickly changed as I stood over an open hole on the porch floor. The freezing air gushed up my slacks and I felt the goose pumps on my thighs. Simultaneously, I recall wishing I had put on my long johns when I spotted her eagerly approaching me in a cunning way.

My immediate thoughts registered an Oh No! I was already behind schedule and I didn't have the time to get involved. I wanted to push this misfortune animal away from me, but I could not muster up that manlike trait needed to forget about another life and to remain emotionless because I was faced with this situation twice before. I knew the domestic cat population was in the mega millions in the United States, but I could not bring myself to make an abrupt exit because only half belonged to homes. Furthermore, money was not a deterrent and another mouth to feed would not jeopardize our family financial framework.

She had a meticulous southern-like charming style; I figured she was sort of an Artisan in the game of mating. Her passionate pleas grabbed at my heartstrings. My vision doubled and then teardrops started to stream from my face.

Her scrawny frame was enhanced only by her haggard eyes, but her voice hummed feelings of love. It was obvious she was not getting the right amount of sleep and the ever-increasing intermittent rumbles from her abdomen were not signs of gas, but pains-of-hunger. She hovered around me like an airplane waiting to land. She weaved in and out brushing lightly up against my body. Through her thin-ragged overcoat,

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