|I'm uncomfortable with surprises at the best of times|
|This place is incredible|
I've had a number of cats in my lifetime, but I haven't actually selected a cat in seventeen years. This time is no different. An adolescent tomcat named Mister Beast recently found himself on the short end of the pet-ownership commitment stick, and suddenly he had nowhere to live. Oh wait--yes he did. My house.
One look at his exotic eyebrows and fancy black tailcoat, and it was clear that Mister Beast demanded a title upgrade. He is now Mister Carson. He arrived late yesterday and spent the night under house arrest in the hall bathroom while the resident cats decide how they feel about the new kid. He slipped out of the bathroom this morning and met Chase nose-to-nose. That encounter actually went fine because Chase evidently cannot see, hear, or smell much of anything these days and wasn't particularly concerned about this dark shape wavering in front of him. Mister Carson is young enough that he instantly rolled over in submission. It was a draw. Chase has already forgotten how many cats live here.
|Huh? meets Gaaaaah!|
Because all of his basic kitten medical care has been neglected, next week he has to go to the
|You may not believe this, but there are trees inside this house|
So far so good, but Lottie spied him through the slider and now refuses to come inside. I'm hoping that since he's (a) still basically a kitten, and (b) a boy, they will be able to work out an amicable hierarchy. Girls, and especially that girl, run the world, you know.
(drag-and-drop cats that stop bouncing, refresh, and don't forget to make it rain!)