One day whilst in the awful depths of a PPD moment, I was on a face book classified page for our area and saw a listing for a new little, neutered, sweet, mousing, stripey kitten that was being given away for free. I called the lady and went and got him. No picture. No hesitation. No talking with Ross about the subject. I just packed up my kids and the little girl I was watching for a friend, drove to the little farm about 5 minutes from my house, and brought home a new little family member. This is not typical of me. I don't normally (EVER) make those kinds of decisions and steps without consulting Ross. This was a singular instance, but I am grateful for it.
Ross came home and saw me snuggling with Leo and gave a little sigh of resignation, then showed me what a lucky gal I am when he sat down and snuggled up with the kitty. No lecture. No guilt trip. No questions. Just some enjoyment of our new purry resident.
A few days later we said goodbye to Molly. She is now living a few doors down with a family in the ward who already had a beagle and had considered getting another one, but couldn't afford one due to some extreme medical bills and a husband on the liver transplant list. I didn't want to do it and was very upset over this, but I am woman enough to admit that Ross was right in this argument. I think Molly is much happier in a family with bigger kids, an enclosed back yard, and another dog to run around with. The family is so great, and we are always on call to run over and help with the dogs when they have unexpected hospital stays or vacations.
The first time I went over to let the dogs out and play while they were at the hospital, my broken heart with a puppy sized void was greatly healed. Molly is so happy there. She still loves the heck out of me, and it is hard sometimes to hear her bark, but this really was the best decision for us, the new family, and Molly. It doesn't get more win-win-win than this. When the other family came to get her the mother and I kept thanking each other over and over.
That is probably way more information than anyone wanted about my puppy, but it was a harsh and important time for us, and I wanted to remember the unique circumstances that surrounded it.
The kitty is so fun. He doesn't get to go outside EVER because cats just don't last long outside around here. If the coyotes don't get them, the speeding Nissans will. He snuggles and purrs like crazy, and he likes to have his belly rubbed. He chases strings and toes under the blankets, and has a funny look he gives us with his ears back when he wants something that makes him look like an owl. I personally would have given him a different name than Leo, but when I went to pick him up the lady called for him, and he came racing around the corner. The cat knows its name and comes running whenever we call him. It is so cute. He has also proven his worth by catching at least two mice that we know of. This is the time of year for mice, and every house in the area has had a problem. We are just too close to all the open fields. It took me a couple of years before I had to admit that no amount of cleaning and keeping doors closed would keep the mice out. I spent those first two falls feeling like a domestic failure. Last year we fought pretty well with traps, but hopefully we won't need them anymore because Leo has been earning his keep.
Last night we heard him running up and down the stairs, which isn't too out of the ordinary during the frisky hours. Then we noticed that there was another unfamiliar sound that was almost akin to a Horcrux. Yes. You guessed it. Leo was playing with his dinner on the stairs, the stinker! Maybe we are the kind of people who sat and watched and cheered him on like a mini version of the gladiator arena. If we were that kind of horrible people, then be assured that we were also the kind to TOTALLY disinfect the entire area the next morning.
Moral of the story: We are cat people, but I miss my dog all the dang time. Also, I am in a chatty mood, but can't get to my phone with the two cutest boys on the planet sleeping on me.