Last week our pool guy came for his weekly maintenance. He is a cat lover, so he always enjoys checking in on Ashton and Rosa, commenting on how they’ve “got it good” with a chuckle. He is generally full of friendly advice and very helpful.
On this day, the kittens were exploring the yard in the unusually warm December sun. Rosa (the black cat) slowly moved among the rosebushes while Ashton (the grey tabby) was on the hunt, stalking something hiding beyond the gate.
“That one’s a boy, right?” The pool guy watched Ashton closely.
“No, it’s a girl,” I said.
“Yeah, well…yeah. The lady we got them from said they were both girls. I mean, she looked at them and said they were…girls, I mean.”
You know where this is going, right?
I went into the garage attached to Autumn House, where I had spent most of the day organizing all the junk we had thrown in there back in July. Ashton followed me and I decided to, you know, take a look.
Lo and behold, there was…something, some things there that were NOT there when we brought her…it…him home!
I carried her/him outside and showed “it” to the pool guy and he laughed.
“How could you tell?” I asked.
“I know my cats!” he laughed throwing his head back. “You got yourself a tomcat!”
I’ve got myself a tomcat.
So now we have had to adjust our pronouns! Poor Ashton, he gets called she/he often and we just grin because now that we know it seems so obvious! It’s a boy, and now we have to deal with the, um, issues that presents.
So, it looks like he will be visiting the local vet soon for a little snip-snip.
Bless his heart.