A Step Closer?

It took a while, but recently my wife and I stopped by one of the local pet stores where Adopt An Angel hosts adoption fairs.
     Sometimes it's sad to see so many cats and dogs hoping to find forever homes, and it took everything I had to walk away empty-handed.  We visited every cage, every pen, and I took a few out of their cages to pet and hold.
     So many purrs and meows, so many sad little sets of eyes.  And then there are the few who simply could not be bothered with visitors, oblivious to the kissy sounds and whistles, lounging, droopy-eyed in their apparently comfortable litter boxes.
     I'm about to fly up north to visit family and see my first granddaughter for only the second time.  She's expecting a sibling in August (my fourth grandchild!), and I can't wait to see everyone.
     Originally we told ourselves we'd wait for a while before even thinking about another pet.  This trip, some questions about my work, and several other events, some of which have come and gone would determine if and when.
     With so much tentativeness I'm now working up the nerve to suggest we consider fostering, but that conversation might not happen just yet.  We'll see.

Decison Time

Well, yesterday was a day to bring up some unpleasant things.  I came home for lunch after a typically shitty day, and my wife, who has to be the most awesome housekeeper I've ever known, was doing some cleaning and had some of Orbit's things lined up by the door.
     We haven't been in any hurry to remove these items- bagged food, unused medications, unused boxes of litter and the rolled up piece of carpet we kept under his litter box- from our apartment.
     It didn't make any sense to hang onto these things any longer, so we mutually agreed to donate most of them to Atlantic Animal Hospital for use by others.  And then it came to Orbit's litter box, the small platform I made for his food and water bowls when he first appeared to be having a problem stooping to eat and drink, and his perch.
     His perch has been laying on the floor in the corner where I put it after removing it from our living room window sill when the last freeze set in.  Our windows, no-name vinyl economy-grade pieces of shit that they are, are so drafty that the plastic we taped over them bulged like a pregnant belly.
     To try to make a long story not quite as long as I ordinarily can I'm sitting here right now looking at the perch, the litter box and the bowl platform, over in their respective corners.  We'll keep those few things for the time being.  
     Yeah, we'll have another cat one of these days, but with assorted uncertainties in our life right now we've decided to wait.  I'd toyed with the idea of suggesting we foster for a while, but I'm not even sure we're ready for that.  Don't want even the temporary attachment just yet.
     

No Clever Post Title

I've been thinking how, over the years we'd give voice to Orbit's antics, attitudes and facial expressions.  As much as he was a crusty old man- and we certainly had that voice down solid- I'm reminded of so many other times when we'd give him the voice of a toddler.
     We were both guilty of talking to him- and making him talk- like a child.  If you're truly a cat lover you'll know how this works.  It's so funny how he could be both at the same time, and we entertained ourselves (at his expense, of course, though he'd say otherwise) for hours on end almost daily. 
     So many times I could sit there with him on my lap, talking to him in whichever voice I chose.  He'd always do one of two things;  Either he'd completely ignore me, or he'd look at me blankly, his eyes saying "wow, what an idiot, talking to a cat, as if I can understand what you're saying."
     Just some random reminiscing for a rainy Saturday afternoon, I guess.