Saved by Cuteness

Welcome to the Alphacat family....SNICKERS!!

Our newest addition

It's been a long month for me.  Grieving my Tigger has been awful.  Then two weeks later the vet calls and says come pick up his ashes.  (Big boo boo face)


I have to say the imprint of his paw is what sent me over the edge.  So I relentlessly hit the internet on all adoptable pet search engines and came up with...nothing.  Kittens don't really arrive in abundance until at least April. And in my grief-addled frenzy I even offered to foster any nursing mommy or pregnant cat.  Of course this raised my husband's eyebrows, but loving me the way he does he wisely told me to do "what I feel capable of..."  This is code for saying he knows I won't overwhelm the house with cats but REALLY wants me to do what makes me happy.  Which is just adopt one single cat.

Tigger now rests on my dresser

I may be the CAT LADY but he merely tolerates this as an endearing quirk.  (I use the word "endearing" knowing full well that in my current frame of mind, hoarding cats is just one adoption event away) 

But, the gods smiled down on my husband and I received a response to a local rescue that received my adoption request for the little booger you see at the top of this page.  His name was "Bloo"...for his amazing blue eyes.  He is 12 weeks old and comes from a family of Ragdoll mixes who were rescued from a cattery.  His mom died after giving birth because she was barely old enough to have a litter.  Not one to dwell on sad details, I am grateful he survived and is now in my possession. 

We went to pick him up in a Petco parking lot where his foster mom had him and his littermates.  He was buried in the bottom of the pile...shaking with anxiety and perhaps the cold.  We have been suffering week after week of record cold and snow here in the Mid-Atlantic states and I can't express more heartily my attitude of "Suck it Winter!!"

He had a long ride home and now the necessary sequester period has begun while the other cats nervously pace around knowing something underhanded is going on.  What's more frustrating...having to isolate this little poopsie or neglect the kitties on the other side of the door???  I'm literally torn.  Which is where my daughter comes in.   She has strict instructions to overcompensate with the existing cats, Toonsis and Pepper, so that they know they aren't losers just because they aren't tiny irresistible attention-hogs.

I've been rewarded with an amazingly affectionate kitten who wants to massage everything that has a pulse.  He was given the name "Snickers" because he's as sweet as chocolate, the color of blended caramel, and still has his nuts.  Temporarily.  (snicker snicker--ha ha works as mocking laughter too!)

So, there you have it.  I'm cured of depression by the arrival of a little fluffball.  I will always miss my dearest Tigger.  But I know somewhere up there he's looking down on us adoringly and thinking, "Hey!  Get out of my spot, you little pretender!!"

sleepy little angel