There's a New Kit in Town.

That would be a tabby kitten Donna found by the dumpster at work last week. He wasn't well, and Donna brought him home just as the heat wave was beginning. He barely moved or made a sound the first few days, hissing at us silently whenever we picked him up, but he sure could pack the chow away. The vet said he was six weeks old, weighed one pound and had the usual litany of minor health problems, but was basically okay. Sure enough, less than a week later, he's bouncing off the furniture and has found his voice.


Donna and I have pretty much given up any pretense of passing him on to someone else, as we were originally planning to do once he was better. So, we have named him Gavin (after Tommy Gavin, the Denis Leary character on our favorite TV show, Rescue Me) and gradually introduced him to Patrick, our cat. We have to take care to keep them separated while Gavin continues to receive medicine, but their encounters have gone surprisingly well.

Patrick is taciturn and very particular, so I always doubted he would accept another cat in the house. So far, he seems fine with the arrangement, though with Gavin lodging in the bathroom for the time being, he may not quite realize that he's about to share his home with the little bugger. Pat was also a stray that Donna took in, and looked just like Gavin when he was a kitten. He still meows like one, despite having become a twenty-two-pound bruiser.

Oh, and happy birthday, Fishworker! I was gonna dedicate a post to you, but God knows there are already enough rumors about us.