One of our cats passed away about a month ago. His name was Pounce. We still have Rascal. I don't talk much about them on this blog simply because they really never interacted much with the children. They were 7 years old by the time Ellie was born, and to be honest, they were kind of anti-social grumps. Pounce was better than Rascal in that regard so it was hard to have him go, but we've always wished that the girls could have that childhood experience of bonding with a cat of their own.
And so we decided to get another cat! I know, it was a shock to me too. With nearly 14 years of dealing with hairballs and lots of shedding, I definitely had no interest in another long haired cat. But a short-haired one? Now let's talk more about it!
The girls originally wanted a kitten. Who can blame them? Kittens are super cute and I even had a hard time not falling in love with the ones we saw. However, what really surprised me was Addie's response to the kittens. She was actually SCARED of them! She did not like their high level of energy and their lack of understanding on how to be gentle when playing with her. There is a fine line between play and biting/scratching and Addie simply didn't understand that the line even exists.
Combine that with the guilt trip we gave Ellie about how kittens find homes easily because everyone wants a kitten, but older cats have a hard time finding a family to love them, and we got Ellie on board with the idea of an older cat. The problem with the older cats, though, was that it was nearly impossible to get a feel for their personalities in such a short timeframe and in the confined space of the shelter's observation room.
After a few failed attempts at finding a perfect fit, we found ourselves at Petco, where they had kitties up for adoption from yet another shelter. And we found her! It was really quite amazing how different our initial meeting with her was compared to the previous kitties. I think it took me all of 2 seconds to love her, the girls all of 20 seconds and Michael... perhaps a minute.
There is still the unknown of how Rascal will behave with the new addition to the family. So far so good with only a couple low-key moans leading to Squeegee leaving the room. I think she's smart to "not go there" with the old grump that we call Rascal.
And Squeegee? You may ask how such a name came to mind? I once had a dog named Sebaca (Russian for Dog). Nana had a black cat named Snowball. Uncle David had a cat named Breakfast. I love naming cats with completely random and unusual yet perfect names. Squeegee has always been on my list of favorites and it even fits her. She loves to drag herself across the floor to get more attention.
Though Twitch would have been a good name for her too because HOLY SMOKES!!! She has an expressive tail!