The Pitter Patter of Furry Feet

I am proud to announce that there's been a recent addition to my home. His name is Stripey, and he's a four-month old Tabby cat. I have to admit I was hesitant to make the decision to adopt him because, if any of you know my story, I am not fully recovered from the loss of my beloved Floppy cat who passed away two years ago this coming October. But since my daughter insisted that, at four and three-quarters years old, she is old enough and because my neighbor, the cat rescuer, did not give up on persuading me take one of the kittens she was trying to find a home for, there is now the lovely sound of the pitter patter of furry feet again throughout my house.

It really is fun having a new kitten, although it does take some adjusting to (it's been some time since I had a kitten, as Floppy lived to the pretty decent age of 15). The preparation itself was pretty tiring. I had to kittenproof the house which wasn't easy in light of all the stuff a pre-schooler leaves around.

The kitten is adapting nicely. He's found some great spots to hide, but he's very social. He loves our front bay window. He's also caught several insects around the house, a few small spiders, which has delighted my daughter who shares her mother's fears of bugs. I am sure if a mouse got in the house, he'd take care of that, too, as he loves the toy mice I've given him to play with. My daughter laughs at how he runs and pounces on them.

I think it will be great that Stripey will probably grow up with Holly. As with my other cat, I intend to keep him as an indoors cat, make sure he has all his shots, and take him to the vet regularly. I know that it will be sad when he is ill or gets old, but that is part of having and loving a pet. They become part of your family.

So here's to the pitter and patter of furry feet. It's a sound I welcome hearing. Welcome, Stripey!