With the absence of Firefly, I have been thinking of getting another cat. On Sunday I decided to go down to the ASPCA and take a look around at the kitties.

Which is where I met this little beauty.

Hi there.

She is a dilute tortoiseshell domestic shorthair with the given name of Petunia. She was sitting on the counter in one of the rooms, very quiet, and had a sad look on her face. There was a sink nearby so I turned it on a trickle. She went nuts. That’s when I knew she was the one for me.

I started on the paperwork and the cat person gave me the details of her history; the poor thing had been previously adopted and then returned after only five days. The previous owner claimed she had pooped all over the house and that she had been taken to the vet to see if it was a medical problem and when nothing was found the owner just … returned her. If I hadn’t already decided to bring her home, that would have cinched it.

As it turned out, the previous owner left a bunch of stuff for Petunia’s new owner – a litter box, a little house, scratching pads, toys, food dishes, food, treats, a new carrier, just about everything you would need for a cat. There has to be over a hundred bucks worth of stuff, the little bag of food (that ritzy Blue Buffalo stuff that’s holistic and organic) probably retails for twenty-five dollars.

I put the little house in the space behind my bedroom door so she would have a quiet little nook to herself.

Since the previous owner got rid of all this stuff rather than keep it for a cat that was better suited to her house, it seems to me that the previous owner, for whatever reason, decided that she didn’t want a cat anymore. Buyer’s remorse, maybe? It’s just sad that the poor kitty had to go through the trauma of going to a new home, starting to settle in, and then got shipped back to the shelter. She was understandably reluctant to get in the carrier to come home with me, but in the entire time she’s been home she hasn’t had a single accident anywhere and has been very affectionate and sweet. I just can’t understand why someone wouldn’t want her.

The other cats are beginning to warm up to her as well.

Look how tiny she is compared to Fearless!

She hangs around the hall bathroom constantly, just waiting for a sink drink.

Turn it on, woman!

I’m not sure if I’ll keep her name because she doesn’t really look like a Petunia to me. I’ve been calling her Tunie, and occasionally Tiny Tune, but GhostDad thinks she looks like a Maggie. I kind of like it.

Seriously cute, right?

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