She was a young single girl living in San Francisco. Her first apartment was found over a restaurant downtown. The previous tenants warned her of the disadvantages of restaurant proximity...namely, mice! Thinking ahead, she ensured the landlord would allow for a cat in the lease agreement.
Never having owned a cat, she was pleased when a friend told her she had found a young stray. "Sounds good," she matter-of-factly responded. She refused to be sentimental about the selection of this pet - this animal was to be used as a tool. This animal was to be her mouser. This animal was a co-habitating partner not a family member.
The cat, recognizing a non-cat person, realized that the idea of a handy litter box might not be something her new "owner" would possess. No matter, thought the feline, this potted palm is perfectly acceptable for my needs.
"How neat!" exclaimed the girl, "the cat finds her own patch of dirt, no need for late night walkies!"
That night, the cat determined, regardless of the girl's lack of understanding of the needs of the great feline race, she would cozy up and grab what warmth she could in the night. She curled up around the neck of the young girl and went to sleep.
The next day, the girl determined that a trip to the vet was a necessity and bundled up the cat for a visit. When the vet entered the room, the girl looked at him sadly and said, "I'm sorry to say, I think this cat is doomed....in fact I think her death is imminent."
Surprised, as the cat appeared to be quite active and healthy, the vet questioned the girl as to her evidence of illness.
"Well," she said, "she has a bad breathing problem...and I'm sure it's only a matter of time."
The vet examined the cat thoroughly, listening hard to lungs and heart to see if he could determine the problem. After he completed his exam, he stroked the cat as he spoke to the young girl some more.
Suddenly the girl said, "There! That sound! That's it."
The vet looked at her with pity. "Ah yes....that sound. Well, that is a sound I know only too well. Tell me young lady, you've never had a cat before have you?"
"No...no...this is my first time." said the young girl sadly, "Is it very bad?"
"Oh no," said the vet solemnly, "That my dear, is what we in the industry call...a purr."
Told in all honesty to Wenderina by Boss Lady...a most savvy and with-it chick who has obviously learned a few tricks in the past 30 years.