2020 wasn’t all strippers and burritos for the Bartons.
Not only did we lose a cat and three bunnies, we all realized that dog Bingo (14), cat Fudge (17) and daughter (17) are up there in years- it was time to get some young blood in the house.
My wife and I were largely in agreement so I left it to her to select the cat. She brought an owl-eyed calico hone. We call her Momo.
Momo is sweet and well-behaved but extremely skittish which largely negates the point of having a pet. I have a teenager; I do not need another mammal to eat my food and offer little companionship in return.
Fudge had become used to running the house and is becoming more crotchety in her elderhood which is more grist for the nightmare mill that is Momo’s existence here.
This gave us teh sadz. With Momo running about avoiding human contact and not having a kitty friend I began to wonder what we actually gave her. I suppose it is a marginally better existence than a foster home or shelter but not significantly so.
And it is clear to all that I am becoming Crazy Cat Guy.
After a few weeks I pulled the trigger sending The Wife out on an errand to get Momo a friend. One each feline type. And rather than leave it up to chance I told her i expected a gray tabby. She returned with this guy:
It didn’t take long for our newest family member to get around to know everyone and by the end of his third day with us, I landed on a name: Buddy. That’s what he is. He plays with me like I’m one of his pack (I have scars in evidence) but he also sleeps on me in the most relaxed poses and suckles on my non mammary fingers or nipples.
But most importantly, he is Momo’s little brother- they enjoy each other’s company which is playing, the two little shits playing me by Buddy begs me for food while Momo hangs back looking innocent and snuggling on the cat condo.
Momo is a good big sister. I hope Buddy can teach her to trust us. But if not, she has Buddy which is good enough.