Ladybird

Ladybird is the newest addition to the family, with probably the most dramatic story. I was dumping our recyclables in our neighbor's bin (I am probably the world's guiltiest recycler-- I always sneak out late at night and drop them in one at a time to minimize noise, afraid I might be found out!), I heard this little squeak, looked down, and saw a bedraggled white kitten, wearing a flea collar. I patted her and went on my merry way, convinced she had owners if she had a collar. 

Over the next two weeks, I brought my trash out more often than I ever have or will in the future. She was always hanging around my dumpster or the recycling bin, getting thinner and thinner. Eventually I couldn't deny that she wasn't getting the care she needed, even if she was technically someone's cat. I fed her a couple of times next to the dumpster, but I knew I couldn't take another cat. My eldest, Rooster, is a nervous wreck around other animals, and my husband is at best a begrudging cat lover. So I called a couple of friends, trying to convince them that they really needed a fluffy! white! (flea-ridden) kitten! All I have to say about that is that it's a good thing I'm not  a pimp, because evidently I fell short. Nobody could or would take said kitten.

So a few days before Thanksgiving I came home around 2 in the afternoon and found her sitting on my stoop. My heart just kind of fell because I knew this was it: she'd never been to the house before, she'd never seen me in the broad light of day, and that meant that she probably really did need a place to live. So I sat out on the porch with her for about an hour, trying to convince myself to walk away, then opened the door for her. 

Luckily she's one of the most lovable creatures ever to walk the earth, a fantastic, generally mellow lap-cat with a squeaky meow but a mighty purr like thunder!