When I got into the airport on the last leg of my trip home, C (who had gotten his Learners licence while I was away, yay!) and his friend Chris picked me up and we went out for dinner with C's parents for his mum's birthday (last year on his mum's birthday we found a little cat on the side of the road on our way home). When we got home I opened the front door and there was a little black kitten in my hallway. A surprise little black kitten. C had secretly gone out and picked up this little guy from a place out of town called Just Cats, where cats and kittens are taken care of and fostered with families until they find their forever families.
I know C had been especially upset about losing our cat Morrissey last year and kept saying how he'd love another little black cat (not a replacement, of course, just to mend his heart).
C decided he'd wait to let me name him and I thought Atticus (I'm a big TKAMB fan) was quite fitting. He's ridiculously cuddly, very curious and has a lot of personality. I guess in the past I've found that cats just generally don't like me (or they just generally prefer C) but this one loves me! Yay! He really lifts my spirits and is a lot of fun to have around. He's so cuddly it's almost (almost!) annoying.
My round belly is one of his favourite places to sleep.
I am a little concerned that every year on C's mum's birthday another cat will mysteriously turn up. Though I imagine that by this time next year we'll have our hands too full to even consider the idea!
N.B. Believe me when I say that I do think owning four cats is a ridiculous amount. I am also aware of the potential hazards of having cats around babies and I don't personally change their kitty litter.