My mother’s dog, Sister, died this morning. Sister had had a crippling knee condition that had gotten steadily worse. This morning, after repeated trips to the veterinarian, she was unable to take more than four or five steps before falling.
My mother donated her remaining dog food and treats to a local shelter and, it must be said, because I’m a sucker for cats, and want every cat to have a home, and because I wanted her to have some animal companionship (and because I just do not like dogs), we wound up bringing home a cat this afternoon.
This is the most aggressively friendly cat I’ve ever encountered. His story is apparently that he had been adopted out once before from the shelter, found loose, brought back to the shelter, and identified but unclaimed. I think this cat wants desperately to bond with humans, to be assured of a home. He’s apparently about eight months old, looks like he will grow up to be a very large cat, and currently getting into everything in the house.
The rub is that I already have a cat, a cat who does not like other cats, but has been increasingly picked on by other cats in the neighborhood (Graton turns out to be a very rough neighborhood if you’re a cat). I’m hoping these two can get along and become allies.
UPDATE: This cat has been named James Tiberius Kirk (so my mother can adapt the middle name to “Tibby”). His interaction with my cat, Admiral Janeway, is almost exactly what one would expect between characters like the Star Trek protagonists by this name. Also, it appears that about five months had elapsed between the first time he had been adopted out and the time he was returned to the shelter.