It Followed Me Home

We spotted this sweet feline on Monday.  It followed us briefly.  Then on Tuesday, The Redhead mentioned that we hadn't seen it since.  Then I was walking back home after dropping her off at school and there it was, waiting at the same curb where we first met.  As though it had been waiting for me, as though it knew The Redhead had asked about it.  It followed me home, so you know what question must follow.





Can I keep it?

Well, before anyone had the chance to answer, and before I started my new kitty adoption announcement cards, Alexandra had her say, and it was in the form of a hiss, which we've only heard her do once before.  Alexandra doesn't hiss, because she is a strange breed of feline.  The only time we've heard her hiss is when we first brought her home and the Perpetual Toddler was shoving a wet canine nose in her face.  Well, she can hiss.  I'm guessing that hiss was a big, fat, ugly way of saying "no" in feline.  The new kitty instantly backed up a bit from the door between them.  It's probably for the best I was unable to translate what had been said.

He, she, whatever it is just hung out front.  Although tempted, I never fed it because I knew that'd lead to trouble.  But it was oh, so tempting.

I need a cat of my own, you see.  My own.  As wonderful as Alexandra the Cat is, I want my own cat.  Or rather, I like the idea of saving it from such a harsh world.  I want to save all the cats.  And the only reason I'm not some crazy cat lady is because I've been restrained.  That, and I hate scooping litter boxes.

Of course, Mister Man said, "no."  Which is unfortunate because I have so, so many good names picked out.  And you know what happens when you name a stray, right?  The Redhead is already calling it Lynx, but I have my own names.  She named her cat.

Olive

Astrid 

Ingrid

Tabitha

Madge

Blanche

Tolstoy

Helix

Oliver

Henry

While my mother-in-law will read this and most likely say aloud something along the lines of "oh dear," I'm not actually in the market for a second cat, especially a cat who knows the outdoors.  (If I was actually getting a second cat, I would have adopted the mustached feline we saw six months ago or the black kitten named Nova I found last year).  But that doesn't mean I can't name it.  Or repeatedly ask Mister Man if I can keep it.  Or threaten to bring it inside anyway.

Besides, Alexandra has already said, "no."  And we all know who rules the house.