|This was his adoption photo|
When we lost Harriet earlier this year, I didn't intend to get a new cat right away. I'd never not overlapped before - I've had cats for almost 40 years, without interruption, and I wanted to see what it felt like. Also, with all the eye stuff going on, I didn't want strange cat hair floating around, getting in there.
But according to the eye doctor, I'm healing, and it certainly feels like it. And late last week, my local animal rescue posted a photo of an orange tabby named Garfield, and that was it. I talked to Mario, we thought about it for a day, and then we went to visit him on Friday night.
I've met his foster before - I had attempted to adopt a cat from her back after Nicky died, but Harriet wanted no parts of a new sibling. When we went down to her basement, where Garfield was hanging out, we couldn't find it. Turns out he had climbed into her ceiling and had to be tempted down with a box of treats. Worrisome, I thought, but we don't have ceilings a cat can get into.
He made a nice impression, affectionate, cute little chirping noises, letting us pet him. After we came home, we talked some more, and decided he would be a good fit. I took an extra day to clean, set up litterboxes, and make sure I took up all the glue traps and mouse traps - hopefully any residual mouse problem will be taken care of by our new child.
|Watching Marie Antoinette. |
Did she say cake?
We picked him up Sunday, brought him home, opened the carrier, and I carried him to the basement to show him the litter box. He then investigated the rest of the basement, climbed a shelving unit, banged his head on a ceiling tile, and climbed into the ceiling. Oops.
He came down pretty quickly. He's food motivated, which helps. And he's fitting in rather nicely. By that evening, he was watching TV with us, albeit from the coffee table. He's since discovered the couch, and I'm hoping that we'll soon be complaining about how much room he takes up in bed.
Also, his name is no longer Garfield. Everyone, meet Rufus.