The "Temporary" House Guest

On the night before Halloween, my boyfriend, David, found this little kitteroo running around the parking lot when he got off of work. So he put her in a box and brought her home. He called on his way home, saying he was bringing home a "house guest" (at this hour?). When he arrived and we opened the box, she came out with paws and claws flying, spatting and hissing and ready to take our faces off. I think she's a semi-feral cat...maybe the offspring of a domestic mom who was dumped somewhere due to being "in the family way," or perhaps little kitty was raised outside and dumped off when a home couldn't be found for her. This same sad scenario happens every day somewhere in this country.

Anyway, we set up the big kennel and made a temporary home for our temporary guest, as David intended that kitty should be cleaned up, fed, tamed, and handed over to the cat rescue group I volunteer with. Yeah, right. Within, oh, say, 35 hours he decided that we should keep her. Fine by me. Never expect me to be the one to say "no, we don't need another cat." Ain't gonna happen. She's calmed down now and is the sweetest little furball. She purrs at first touch, rolls and stretches and plays with her back feet when she's in my lap, and chews gently on my thumb. I'm in love.

We haven't come up with a name yet. David originally named her Spooky, but that just didn't fit. I nicknamed her Princess Hissy, because during the first two days of her residency, she hissed at us everytime we reached for her. I want to name her either Fiona, Hermoine, or Molly, but David wants to name her (he did find her), and I'm praying it won't be "Spot" or "Fluffy."

This kitteroo landed in tall cotton, let me tell you. She's in for a future of spoilin' and adorin', even if the price tag is having to put up with two exceptionally crazy humans.