Only a few words, because I'm on a round two of this cold, which is making me cranky and very tired. The latter, though, could be also the result of last week, which was by and large really bad. We lost Buffy because of renal failure. If you've ever lost a beloved pet you know the feeling. I really don't want to talk about it. We also had to spend some time with Marigold at the vet because she needed another round of antibiotics. As you can imagine, it was a bit too much. But at the clinic we were introduced to Bob, a five year old orange/white tabby. Bob has quite a story, since he was rescued from the streets of Fort Lee, NJ, by no other than Whoopi Goldberg. She couldn't keep him, so Bob found himself being fostered at our local vet's, where he spent three week with no one being interested in him.
I already wanted to adopt an adult cat. First, to honor Buffy who was about one when we got her. But also because at barely 9 months, Marigold, Gemma, and Pippa are still very much kittens, with the endless energy that comes with it. Bouncing off the walls included. Bob, with his sweet and gentle disposition was perfect. He came home with us on Friday and has been quickly settling in. You can tell that he really wanted a home and is very happy to have one. Last night he already slept in bed with us. Sophie didn't seem to mind.
The name Bob came with him. It might not have been my first choice (I was thinking George, for both Clooney and the Prince of Cambridge. Or maybe Toby, just because). It seems to suit him, though, so I'm happy if he's happy.