A few mornings ago I went into a deli in Manhattan and saw a girl holding a yellow kitten. I can hardly resist a cat, let alone a kitten, so soon I was holding him (or her – I didn’t check the details). I found out he belonged to the deli owners, and he was put on the floor and scampered back behind the counter, possibly to catch a baby mouse, bathe in a cup of iced coffee, or hide from the heath inspector. It’s fun to see a kitten run, with their little legs.
This morning I went to the same deli, and asked the woman where the kitten was. “It’s here under the register,” she said, and pulled out Little Yellow and let me hold him again. Then, for amusement, I got to pretend I was buying a kitten at a deli.
I wonder what Little Yellow is doing now.