Since losing my boy, Thumper, a month ago, my little girl, Pyewacket, has lost 2 pounds and was following me around and looking lost. I went to a vet who specializes in cats and, in fact, allows them to roam freely in her office (about 50, I'm told) and is pretty fussy about adopting them out. I told them my concerns for my female and they conferred with the vet and came back to say they had one boy they thought might work. Seriously? One cat out of all those animals? They put me in a room and when they returned, they were holding a boy who is pretty much the spitting image of Thumper - just missing a white triangle on his chest. He was very friendly and playful and so I adopted him and brought him home to see how long the spitting and hissing would go on before they tolerated each other. Lo and behold, not one hiss or spit. Both are playing now - not really with each much just yet - but playing nonetheless and Pyewacket is eating again! Now I just have to find a name that fits his personality. They were calling him Vince at the vet's but I don't think it suits him. Since he's into every nook and cranny while exploring his new space, I'm taking today to do a much-needed cleaning of those corners and countertops so he doesn't get into anything - that includes all the herb containers and essential oil bottles - get them out of reach and in shipshape.
One advantage of working in hospice is that I get to play with all the therapy dogs. This is Asher, a Corgi.