On Christmas Eve, Delta and I impulsively adopted another kitty from the shelter. I guess we watched just one Sarah McLaughlin add to many, and caught up in the pathos of the song, we convinced ourselves it was our moral duty to save a little feline life. Introduce Charlie.
Unfortunately, the magnanimous benevolence of our actions was rather lost on Queen Jaffa, who has hitherto been the unquestioned empress of her kingdom. She was duly unimpressed with our divided attentions.
Charlie is a timid little kitty. At the advice of the kindly ASPCA volunteer, we've restricted her to the bathroom for the moment, so she has a safe haven from which to accustom herself to the sights, sounds and smells of her new abode. Instantly, she set up camp under the vanity from whence she squawked for food at regular intervals. Today, in a huge leap of (potentially premature) progress, we've kept the bathroom door propped open for the first time, separating Charlie from the world yonder with only a little child-gate.
Queen Jaffa, napping in the living room, is blissfully unaware that when she wakes up, there'll be another kitty around in her kingdom, separated only by something as flimsy and ephemeral as a few babyproof bars.
We have always known it would be a delicate introduction between the two kitties, and expect nothing less than a parade of hissing and back-arching (remarkable similarity to the yoga position) in their quiverfull of tricks.
Wish us luck, for although right now, the kitties sleep soundly, we rest assured that this home will regress into an animal farm of mayhem in the not so distant future.
Still - all in a day's work, right? Sarah McLaughlin would be proud.
Unfortunately, the magnanimous benevolence of our actions was rather lost on Queen Jaffa, who has hitherto been the unquestioned empress of her kingdom. She was duly unimpressed with our divided attentions.
Charlie is a timid little kitty. At the advice of the kindly ASPCA volunteer, we've restricted her to the bathroom for the moment, so she has a safe haven from which to accustom herself to the sights, sounds and smells of her new abode. Instantly, she set up camp under the vanity from whence she squawked for food at regular intervals. Today, in a huge leap of (potentially premature) progress, we've kept the bathroom door propped open for the first time, separating Charlie from the world yonder with only a little child-gate.
Queen Jaffa, napping in the living room, is blissfully unaware that when she wakes up, there'll be another kitty around in her kingdom, separated only by something as flimsy and ephemeral as a few babyproof bars.
We have always known it would be a delicate introduction between the two kitties, and expect nothing less than a parade of hissing and back-arching (remarkable similarity to the yoga position) in their quiverfull of tricks.
Wish us luck, for although right now, the kitties sleep soundly, we rest assured that this home will regress into an animal farm of mayhem in the not so distant future.
Still - all in a day's work, right? Sarah McLaughlin would be proud.
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