Fantastical Andrew Fox

Want to boost your page views? You can either claim that Sinead O’Connor has sworn undying love for your vampire character… or engage in the black art of kitten blogging.

My wife loves cats. No two ways about it. She had ten housecats when I met her, all rescues. By the time Hurricane Katrina rolled into town, we were down to eight. The stresses of going a week or more without food or water thinned the herd to a regrettable extent, so we were down to three cats when we moved north to Manassas. Bobby, our fourth current feline resident, was sort of an accidental housecat; Dara trapped her to get her spayed and meant to release her back into our neighborhood afterward. But while Bobby was convalescing in our house, she slipped the bounds of her cage and hid inside our walls for a few weeks. We’ve never been able to catch her, so she joined the other three by default.

Priscilla, however, is a kitten of choice. One of Dara’s friends who rescues cats and kittens from the streets emailed Dara a photo of what she described as the friendliest little kitten she’d ever laid hands on. We took the boys to meet her this past Sunday, and Priscilla, I’m happy to say, gave as good as she got, not backing down an inch from my sons’ overly enthusiastic play. All three boys are desperate for a cat who will sleep with them, rather than Dara, and Priscilla may well be the one.

I’m a dog guy, not a cat guy. But I must say, I like this one. At least until she shreds the upholstery on my favorite chair…