This is Rubik, our new furry bundle of fleas and joy. He’s so far doing okay, loves to snuggle up to whoever is sleeping and is somewhat more clingy than our previous cat.
Our first cat, Peabo died last August which broke the kids’ hearts and so I just had to get a new one. Even Fluffy went through some period of mourning and was clearly depressed after losing her playmate.
But all that is fixed now. Fluffy has fully adjusted and the kids are all over Rubik, who is one hyper active kitten that keeps everyone alert and awake when he wakes up to play at wee hours of the night.
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For the record, I was never a cat person. When I was a kid, I was very mean to cats. We only had dogs, lots of dogs, in fact, from what I recall, we had some sort of a breeding hive of mini pinschers and a kennel for several large dogs.
I started warming up to cats when I was in high school, when I’d crash at our pastor’s digs when their cat, also named Peabo, would keep me company at night while I slept on a sleeping bag. But even then, I dreaded the idea of having to take a cat home as a pet.
We got our first cat for the sole purpose of keeping rodents out of sight. We live in an old house were it came to a point when the mice thought they were friends with us, hence the cat. I just wanted a cat to keep the mice away, no attachments, no feelings, nothing.
But things didn’t turn out as planned and we all fell in love with that orange ball of fur, and so when he died, we just had to get a new one. I’m still not entirely sure, but pretty soon I could call myself a cat person.
