Kat

That's the name of our cat we found. Kat. Pretty original huh? John thought of it, and I like it. I think it'll be easy for Daphne to get it too. I tried asking her what we should name it, but I don't think those wires are connected yet.

This is how she LIKES to be held. A weird and uncomfortable position, but she loves it. Last night she fell asleep while I was holding her like this.

~My cats story~

I told myself sternly over two years ago that I would never ever have a cat again. Our last experience with cats wasn't that great. But I don't know what we were thinking. John and I adopted THREE cats (siblings) shortly after we were married before I found out I was pregnant. They were really cute, but three was just a couple too many. They thrashed our apartment, and it always stunk like cat poop. We kept them until about 3 weeks before Daphne was born and then I left them in kennels in PetSmart. I'm serious. We couldn't find anyone to take them, so we put them in individual kennels and I put them down in an aisle in PetSmart and I walked out. It was sad yet sadistically funny. I love cats and other animals, but I have a hard time becoming overly attached to care too much to not do something like that.

I do love cats though. I have had many cats on and off for many years. I grew up with two, but they were outdoor cats, they got old and sick and would "disappear". Mom and Dad know what I'm talking about. Anyway, after that I got a kitten that was given to me by a boyfriend around the time I turned 18. It was a girl and I named her Josie. She had long hair and many colors. She was really a pretty cat.I took her with me to Washington and I now think that was the experience that made her insane. She turned out to be a crazy cat and I had to get rid of her, not for that reason, but also because my roommates didn't like her, and I found it SHE was actually a HE who kept spraying everything. SICK. I had HIM for about 10 months.

Then, a different boyfriend got me a kitten around the time I was 19. This one actually was a girl, she was black and I named her Phoebe. I always had to keep her in my room because, again, my roommates didn't like her. She was a really good cat. Whenever I would come home and go to my room, I'd call her and she meow and run to me. My roommates convinced me to transition her to be an outside cat... she disappeared shortly after.

Then about a couple months after I turned 20, a friend of mine had a cat who had kittens. I couldn't resist taking the opportunity to take one. I was living with my parents now, and I knew they had a strict no cat rule. My dad is "allergic". So I decided to take the kitten anyway, and just try to keep it in my room. A few days after I got it, some friends of mine and I went on a trip to Vegas. I thought I could cleverly keep the cat in my room while I was gone (with food and water of course) and my parents wouldn't find out. Well, about a day after I left for my trip my mom called me asking why there was meowing coming from my room. Needless to say, my parents found out I had a cat and made me get rid of her.

And then there were the 3 John and I had after we got married.

I consistantly got a new cat every year of my life for 4 years. I managed to escape this pattern for 2 until this little cutie wondered on our deck just begging to come in.

I think I'm a cat magnet. When John dies I WILL be the cat lady. I'm convinced.