Blacky the Cat

I have been unbelievably delinquent to have not mentioned on this blog that we have a new addition to our household. For shame!

Blacky was a stray little kitten who literally followed my son into our family roughly a month ago. He was outside playing and came in with screams that he was being chased. I ran out to see a tiny black kitten bounding down the driveway after him. I am not particularly a softy when it comes to animals, but when I saw this kitten, my heart melted. How odd, when I had just mentioned to my husband not a week beforehand, after his confession that he did actually enjoy cats, that we should then get one.

Blacky, hours after we met.

I'm guestimating that Blacky was about two months old at that time. To me, it looks like she has already doubled in size. Eating will do that to you. She is extremely people-oriented, which I'm sure is why she sought us out to begin with. She makes a lovely lap blanket, and endures being carried by a doting three-year-old. She is also helpful in getting children to settle in to go to bed, hopping from one bed to the next as everyone nods off to sleep. Even my husband, supposedly allergic to cats, will find holding her a perfectly good excuse to take a nap. But she also serves as an alarm clock even if I don't want this service, as she will mistake a shifting body under blankets as a huge toy to be pounced upon and wrestled with.

We've all enjoyed her company. My daughter changes her name frequently, including: Barn Kitty, Blue and Red, Claire, Donkey and Brownie. She does actually look more and more brown, or slightly calico, with each passing day. And next we'll probably find out she's a he. But we're sure she's a cat.