Yesterday Knox and I went to the pet store to get kitty a new litterbox and instead we got him a backpack. We also met some very sweet kitties up for adoption, a pair who would like to stay together and seemed cautiously curious about Knox. I really wanted those kitties. In fact, I want to take home every kitty I see all the time. There was a free kitten sign on a road nearby and I had to will myself every day not to stop, fortunately it's gone now. I asked Matt what he'd do if I came home with another cat and he just shook his head, like the possibility of owning one more pet just wouldn't fit in his brain. He has to keep reminding me that the chickens will be pets too and will upset the house enough for the next few weeks without adding a territorial kitty battle upstairs.
When I think about it properly I know it's a bad idea, Chairman Meow will crush the opposition no problem. She hisses with deadly accuracy. I had secretly thought that if I got a pair they might stand a chance but probably it'll just turn into trench warfare for the next five years or until someone finds our bodies with multiple sharp cuts at the jugular. Puppy will miss us. He'll be only a slave in the new society, forced to surrender his treats and toys for the greater good. Guess I'd better stop searching petfinder all afternoon.