So we’re probably going to be getting a new cat — probably this weekend — as Katherine has had a yen for a pet, and she’s demonstrated she can be responsible, and I (or we, but Margie keeps saying it’s me) am a marshmallow.
Katherine’s initial preference, actually, is for something — fish, guinea pigs, hamsters, etc. — that our current cats would consider as “food,” which would be unfair to the newcomers and present incumbents alike. Cats are also a solid idea for us because they tend to be pretty independent and easy to care for, and if we’re away for a weekend or something, we aren’t going to come back and find them floating upside down in the tank or the small-rodent equivalent.
Katherine has semi-reluctantly agreed, though she’s still got her hopes up that we’ll change our mind.
So in Margie and my discussions about this outside of little pitcher range, we agreed that a female cat would be best — least competition with Mist and Indy, least likely to mark territory, etc.
As we were discussing this with Katherine on the way to dinner tonight, she piped up, utterly unsolicited, “It has to be a girl kitty!”
Excellent, we thought. One less complication to negotiate with her. “Yes,” Margie said, “we need a girl one.”
Katherine continued, “So we can have kittens and more kittens!”
Ah … that engendered another talk, but I was still chuckling several minutes later …