gwyn | New man in my life

One of the fears I have of returning to the outside work world after being at home 24/7 for three years is that Olive, who is such a social and friendly and active cat, would be frustrated and beyond lonesome during the day. So I wanted to get her a friend, and I know she came originally from a hoarding home, with 43 other animals, and then after that she lived with someone who already had a male cat, so I figured that it might be easier for her to adapt than my previous animals. And most sources agree that an older female accepts a new younger male much easier, so I went looking for kittens at the same place I got Olive, only they seemed to be fresh out of them. I dithered for a little bit and was kind of busy, but this weekend looked good, so i went on Petfinders and found Sterling, a lovely little fellow, it looked like, and Morris, another orange tabby, who are always just easy, lovely cats. They both were at the same foster home.

I've always been a little reluctant about foster homes because I hear such terrible tales of the fascist foster organizations and how difficult they make it, but this woman was really nice on the phone, and she'd had a lot of calls about Sterling, but Morris was already adopted. She decided that it would be good for me to take Sterling, though, since I'm older, have my own home, etc. Most of the other callers were younger and she thought they'd do better with some of her other kitties.

So, Friday night in utter hell traffic, Sterling came home to live with me and Olive. Which, unfortunately, Olive is most displeased about and is not really getting much better. I had expected the worst from her when the remodel started, because it just seemed too much for a kitty to handle, but she came through with flying colors. And here I expected the best from her, but she's being pretty damn mean, and the poor guy is exiling himself to the bedroom now that I've opened the house up to him, just because he's gotten so scared of her. (I think this is exacerbated by the three bully cats next door who are twice her size and have taken to marking everything and beating her up.)

He's somewhere between 4 and 6 mo (vet thinks maybe 5 and a half), and he's a lovely grey and white, with a long tail and big feet and still a fair amount of blue in his eyes. His fur will get shinier, I can tell, and it's this beautiful blue-grey, and so I have decided to call him Blues -- or more formally, Mr. Blues Sterling, Esq. I've always liked Blue and variations on that as names, and Blues, the Capetown police detective Charlie takes a shine to in Charlie Jade was one of my favorite characters in the show, and it seems to fit him. Plus, that way I have two colorful names for kitties. I don't think I ever much call my kitties by their names, and I can't seem to type Sterling at all, so Blues will be easier, and I'll still call him both at some point anyhoo. He has the sweetest, cutest little meow I've ever heard, and he trills more prettily than a Tribble; he also is quite a purr monster.

Olive has found a box as a new home, which I put on top of the dining table. I hate the thought of her hiding there to avoid him, but she's really pissed she can't come in and sleep on me, and things seem very out of sorts. Blues is a bit scared of a lot of things -- sharp noises like pulling the blind strings, appliances, etc. He's fascinated by the computer, as long as it doesn't make noise (the startup sound is really scary). He loves to be kissed and cuddled and he is fond of hanging his head off my arm and stretching his feets out and just chilling that way. He likes to play, but he seems suddenly scared of toys right now so I'm trying to ease him back into them.

Anyway, I'm hopeful they will get used to each other. I want her to have a friend. He's a darling little guy if she'll just give him a chance.

I have had a really hard time getting him to stay still and take photos. He has this funny, squinchy little face and his fur sticks up on his head, so he always looks like he just woke up and is going, "Dude, what?"

Every time I get the camera out, he's all "rrarrrrr" with the wrist string, which also makes it rather difficult to photograph.

I was so much happier to see that he had a little tattoo on his belly to indicate he's been neutered, rather than the barbaric ear notch that poor Olive got. Makes him seem like a badass -- hey, babybee, check out my tat.