So our next door neighbors, who we like, told us they are getting a divorce and losing their home. I feel really bad for them. They are a mixed family, having both been married before, both have kids from the previous marriage. She has already moved out with her daughter, he will be leaving soon with his son. Everyone is going their separate ways, including the pets.
She had asked me if I wanted one of their cats, since she knew that Fred, our kitten, had wandered off. I told her that I thought we could do that, since Dan and I had discussed that we wanted another cat. Her husband approached Dan at a different time with the same question. He agreed, recalling our cat discussion too. So we each got a cat. Not a cat. Two cats. It is quite an adjustment to go from being a dog family to a cat and cat and dog family. My sister in law and brother in law have 3 cats and 3 dogs, so I thought, it can't be that bad.
Growing up, I had always wanted an indoor pet. We had hundreds of barn cats. We had tons of cattle. We even had an outdoor dog, but no indoor pets. Sure, my sister and I would catch crawldads in the creek, put them in a used Cool Whip container with a rock or two (a feeble attempt to recreate their natural habitat) and put them on a shelf in the basement, so mom wouldn't know. We would catch flies to feed them, but they never lived long. My parents always said that animals belong outside. Whenever faced with this statement, I would vow, in my head, of course, that I when I grew up, I would have indoor pets.
So, now, twenty-some years later, we have indoor pets. I am starting to realize that my mother was smart about it. No pets equals less vacuuming, less dusting, less scooping of another being's poop into a bag. Less of everything that is tedious and gross.
We are very thankful that we were able to give these two kitties a home. We have named the tiger striped one Priscilla. The calico is unnamed as of now. We are welcoming suggestions as to what to call her.
Elvis thinks that all of his prayers have been answered. He has not one, but two new chew toys in his life. Priscilla tolerates him well. The calico is still standing her ground and telling him what she thinks.