So yesterday the family trekked over to the Waukesha Humane Society. We haven't been there in a while. The Boy is not what you'd call a pet person. (I don't blame him...pets take up a lot of energy and love and then they die.) He loved our cat Snickers, which we had to give away eons ago because we thought The Girl was allergic. (We're still not convinced she's not...)
Anyway, our quest for a dog is over. The Boy is far too anti dog for us to consider one. And getting a small dog from the Humane Society that doesn't have mental defects is sort of like trying to get a teenager out of bed during summer break. It's simply not likely. And, since I won't have the time, energy, or money to deal with a big dog until the children are done draining my resources, we changed our sites.
We started looking at a cats.
Now, I thought this process would take at least as long as our hunt for dog. There would have to be many, many viewings. There would have to be considerations. There would have to be a lot of time.
Nope. 45 minutes. That's all it took.
See, it's KITTEN SEASON!
Who can resist kittens? After ten minutes there I wanted to take at least three of them home. And I don't want a pet. (Putting down my beloved Snowflake, the hedgehog, three years ago took a lot out of me.)
But there he was, they called him Scooby. Black and white and mewing all over. Playful and entirely the cutest kitten of all the kittens in the place. I wanted to get Babs, the four year old female who was declawed and looked pretty laid back.
Nope, we're getting Scooby. We're picking him up today. We're going to rename him...probably Jasper, because, well, he looks like a Jasper to me.
I'm not bonding with this cat! I'm not, I'm not, I'm not!
But his cute little face.....