Adopting another cat was the last thing we had planned. We got Lois and Clark when they were 16 weeks old in November of 1995. We have a pretty good thing going. and they don't care for other four-legged critters.
A lot of stray cats have staked out our house in the last 13 years, and while we've tried to care for them, we had never been inclined to bring one into the house.
Then this little cat came along. We'd spotted her in the neighborhood a few months ago, a quick moving orange-brown-black shadow, darting in and out of the bushes. A couple of weeks ago she showed up on our back deck, demanding affection. She loved to be petted. She loved to be held. She had obviously been someone's pet at one time. So we fed her and gave her some attention. Then every night we'd watch her curl up on the car or on a piece of deck furniture. Alone.
Norma and I both arrived at what now seems an inevitable decision. Last week we took her to the vet, had all the necessary stuff done, and now Callie lives here (yeah, not the most original name, but when she was living on the deck, "Calie" seemed better than "that cat out back").
She's spent most of her time in the den. The picture above was taken this morning on her excursion to the living room.
The one below was in the den this morning when Clark came in to find out why the door had been closed.
The meeting went like this:
Clark: (turns around and quickly exits the room).
I have a feeling that we have a lot of hissing in our future.
But I know we did the right thing.
Lois and Clark may not agree.