This was a long-awaited day: Daisy's trip to the pound to pick out her new kitten.
Our dignified tabby, Bossy, died in the spring. Daisy had been asking rather ghoulishly all year if I thought maybe one of the cats would die soon so she could get a *new* kitten. Well, tick disease had its way and she got her wish.
For weeks her heart was set on "afluffywhitePersianwithblueeyes", but surprisingly there weren't any at the animal shelter. Instead there was every kind of kitten that was a gray female. So she chose one of those instead. A dainty tiny cat with white paws and no improper pride.
Bella manfully volunteered to sleep downstairs with the kitty to prevent the squeaky lonely mews. They're tucked up soundly now in Felix's bed with a hot water bottle.
We wanted a lap cat, and I think we got one. And if the sun comes out tomorrow, I'll take her picture.