I have a confession to make.
My Dad reads this blog, so if I want to keep anything secret, I can't post it here. However, they're going to find out sooner or later, and I'm beginning to become afraid that I will slip up or they will find out accidentally. So...
For weeks now, I've been haunting Petfinder.com, reading about the animals offered for adoption and wishing I had enough room for all of them. (Okay, maybe not all of them, but some of them.) One of my unwritten New Year's Resolutions this year was to adopt an animal, preferably another cat, since one more mouth to feed isn't really all that much. Another resolution is to volunteer at a shelter, something I am looking into.
Last Friday, I came this close to stopping by a local shelter and adopting a cat I've had my eye on ever since I first saw his face.
See, I used to have a cat named Punkin who was my sweetheart. I had him from kittenhood to adulthood, until I got married and moved. He stayed behind at my parents' house.
I fully intended to convince my ex to allow me to bring him with me, but before I could do that, he contracted pneumonia. Mom took him to the vet, and he did okay for a little while, but then had a setback and died. (Part of this setback was the vet's fault, btw.)
I didn't even get to say goodbye.
Tib is Punkin in disguise, of course. A tribute to a friend. When I write about Tib, I remember Punkin and have to smile. I have some pictures of him when he was a baby that are just too cute for words.
I didn't get to the shelter last Friday, partly because I wanted to devote most of my attention over the weekend to Mabel's arrival. But when her arrival didn't really make a giant impact on the other cats' lives (other than 'forcing' them to vanish for a couple of days before they got over their initial fear), I decided that since everyone was in transition anyway, it was probably a good time to bring home my adoptee if I still wanted to do it.
On Tuesday, I decided to stop by after work and meet him for the first time. He was just as cute as he looked in the shelter's pictures, shy and not really trusting, but sweet nonetheless. And even though it was a no-kill shelter and he wasn't in any real danger, I couldn't leave him there.
So, I brought Mischa home.
He is my ghost cat, but warming up fast. Last night, he spent the night sleeping on the rug beside my bed. (He's not quite ready to sleep with me yet.) He lets me pet him, doesn't meow, and I await the day I hear him purr for the first time.
His most endearing trait is how he sticks the tip of his tongue out almost all the time and for no apparent reason.
His eyes are almost the same color of his fur, which is a bit disconcerting. But he's a sweetheart, and he's home.
Surprisingly enough, I have had no protests from anyone, even Zoey. I think that after Mabel, they were just relieved that I hadn't brought home another dog. :)
So, Mom and Dad, sorry. I can't keep him a secret any longer. But I promise that unless there are circumstances beyond my control, four cats and one dog (and let's not forget Hildy) are enough for me.
My Dad reads this blog, so if I want to keep anything secret, I can't post it here. However, they're going to find out sooner or later, and I'm beginning to become afraid that I will slip up or they will find out accidentally. So...
For weeks now, I've been haunting Petfinder.com, reading about the animals offered for adoption and wishing I had enough room for all of them. (Okay, maybe not all of them, but some of them.) One of my unwritten New Year's Resolutions this year was to adopt an animal, preferably another cat, since one more mouth to feed isn't really all that much. Another resolution is to volunteer at a shelter, something I am looking into.
Last Friday, I came this close to stopping by a local shelter and adopting a cat I've had my eye on ever since I first saw his face.
See, I used to have a cat named Punkin who was my sweetheart. I had him from kittenhood to adulthood, until I got married and moved. He stayed behind at my parents' house.
I fully intended to convince my ex to allow me to bring him with me, but before I could do that, he contracted pneumonia. Mom took him to the vet, and he did okay for a little while, but then had a setback and died. (Part of this setback was the vet's fault, btw.)
I didn't even get to say goodbye.
Tib is Punkin in disguise, of course. A tribute to a friend. When I write about Tib, I remember Punkin and have to smile. I have some pictures of him when he was a baby that are just too cute for words.
I didn't get to the shelter last Friday, partly because I wanted to devote most of my attention over the weekend to Mabel's arrival. But when her arrival didn't really make a giant impact on the other cats' lives (other than 'forcing' them to vanish for a couple of days before they got over their initial fear), I decided that since everyone was in transition anyway, it was probably a good time to bring home my adoptee if I still wanted to do it.
On Tuesday, I decided to stop by after work and meet him for the first time. He was just as cute as he looked in the shelter's pictures, shy and not really trusting, but sweet nonetheless. And even though it was a no-kill shelter and he wasn't in any real danger, I couldn't leave him there.
So, I brought Mischa home.
He is my ghost cat, but warming up fast. Last night, he spent the night sleeping on the rug beside my bed. (He's not quite ready to sleep with me yet.) He lets me pet him, doesn't meow, and I await the day I hear him purr for the first time.
His most endearing trait is how he sticks the tip of his tongue out almost all the time and for no apparent reason.
His eyes are almost the same color of his fur, which is a bit disconcerting. But he's a sweetheart, and he's home.
Surprisingly enough, I have had no protests from anyone, even Zoey. I think that after Mabel, they were just relieved that I hadn't brought home another dog. :)
So, Mom and Dad, sorry. I can't keep him a secret any longer. But I promise that unless there are circumstances beyond my control, four cats and one dog (and let's not forget Hildy) are enough for me.
Comments