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January 17, 2006

Bob

We have a new cat. He's a kitten, really; he's eight months old. Herself and I got him at Petco when we went there on a Saturday to buy crickets for Argo. I guess it was Adoption Day because the store was filled with cages of dogs and cats and adults looking into the cages and kids with yearning expressions looking at the adults. The dogs barked and the cats settled in, front paws tucked under their bodies, watching the world through slitted eyes. Some of them were New Orleans orphans. "Mom," said Herself, That Look on her face and That Tone in her voice. "Isn't this sad? Can't we get a cat? Won't you think about it?"

I looked at her little self and thought Antipsychotic Drugs and I said "Yes, I'll think about it while I shop next door," and I knew that she knew I was about to Cave. At Safeway I bought a case of cat food and a half-ton jug of litter. A half-hour and one hundred and seventy-five dollars later and with my mother's voice in my head saying "Who buys a cat?", I was driving home with one in the backseat of the car and Herself promising me that she'd clean the litter every day.

Since moving in he's had several names, but Herself and I have settled on our favorite (Bob) and Moo has settled on his (Zappa). It doesn't really matter that he goes by both, as he doesn't really go by either one. His given name was Ricky, so I imagine he's just glad to be rid of that. (Who names a cat "Ricky"?) He's beautiful: gray and black and white and orange striped, and unlike Spike spends a lot of his time expressing himself in plaintive meows.

It took almost two weeks for him to get comfortable with Jack and Spike and he still runs away from me and Moo most of the time, though last night I crept up slowly as he groomed himself and he allowed me to scratch his ears. "You aren't going to turn into a cat lady, are you?" asked several friends. No, I'm not going to turn into a cat lady. I already am one.

Posted by JudyLa at 11:30 PM | Comments (0)