New Cat

For as much joy and happiness that our two cats bring us, I'm shocked that we would add a third to the family. I won't go into the story of how we obtained him, but let's just say Marilyn and I are extremely compassionate people. It's easier to say this than to say we made a big mistake. His name is Dwight. Although our other two cats don't like him much, they're tolerating him as much as we are.

Our oldest cat, Daisy, is 20 years old and has all the traits you'd expect from a cat that age. None good except for the sleeping 22 hours/day. Scruffy is 12 and as cats go, not bad to have around yet still not as good as not having a cat. I was hoping that after they lived fulfilling cat lives, they would pass peacefully, we'd have short memorial services for them in the back yard, and bury them along with their litter boxes and live out the rest of our days with unshredded furniture. With the arrival of Dwight, that cat-free day is in the far distant future. In fact, Dwight may end up burying me. He is pretty good at burying "things" in the litter box.

Dwight