So. Meet Daniel, the new baby. And what a baby, indeed. It's like having a toddler around the house again, one who jumps up on countertops and tables (though I may have cured that when I began flicking water drops at him). He loves to talk to us, (little mrrts-mrrts?) and you know? In temperment he resembles our dear cat, Lennon, and the best cat Naomi ever had, Oreo.
All rolled into one.
All rolled into one.
What a character. Follows me around like a puppy and is never far from either of us. Claimed Tom's recliner already and the spot on my bed where I sit during these winter months to watch tv or read. Pretty smart for a 14-month-old baby.
So the first cat has arrived.
Sammy (Samson) comes to stay on Wednesday after we take Daniel to his free doctor check-up to see if all's well with him. Thankfully, 8-year-old Sammy is easy-going and just wants to play with anything with a pulse. Whether he or Daniel is the alpha male won't matter to him--he met Daniel yesterday and just kinda looked at him as if to say, "Hey kid. I think we'll get along. I'll let you know later."
Tom chose the name, Daniel, because then we'd have two Bible names for cats. シ (I'm thinking we should have named Daniel, Major Distraction, instead. heh.)
And so the cat adventure at Hobbit Cottage begins.
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Daniel is fixed, has all his shots and was half-off at the shelter. Nice.
Tom and Naomi went to buy tires for Naomi's car yesterday (she leaves for Tennessee in days), and came back not only with the tires, but with Daniel.
I didn't mind. For some reason, just thinking about the trip to the shelter and picking out a cat was almost stressing me out. I'm grateful they went ahead and did the choosing, themselves.
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