When he showed up we decided right away that we wouldn’t keep him. Even though he was certain this was his “forever” home when he walked through the front door, went directly to the cat food dish and then to the couch where he curled up and went to sleep, I wasn’t as keen on the prospect.
The idea of starting from scratch with a five-month-old feline doesn’t have a lot of appeal. The two very mature cats who own this place seemed less than enthused, although to their credit they didn’t try to eat him.
The little guy did come with some good traits. He’s affectionate, loves people, is litter tray trained (so well that he comes inside to do his business when he has miles of flower beds to use) and could be happy living in the house all the time. To say that his appetite is good is a gross understatement. His favorite food is the ultra expensive kibble we have to buy for our older cats. He’s helpful, likes to help me with my typing, climb around in desk drawers to make finding material more of a challenge and swing on the phone cord while I’m talking.
I’d get rid of him if I could but I’m too embarrassed to take him to an animal shelter and there are so many kittens up for adoption at this time of the year. So “Billy Bob” (Billy because he reminds me of my cousin by that name and Bob because that’s what’s going to happen next week when he gets his ambition separated from his identity) is here to stay. He knows a sucker when he sees one.
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