Photographing a black cat is much more challenging than I would have thought. Getting a result that looks more like a cat than a massive black hole takes a non-trivial amount of processing.
Also, Baxter is the first cat Aaron or I have ever known to play tug-of-war. Once he catches that mousie on the pole, he wants to drag it off somewhere quiet and have some alone time with his kill.
Having a kitten again is pretty awesome.
By special request from my Mom, this is the return of the Caturday photo post.
Here we have Baxter perched in one of his favorite spots (photo by Connor).
I bent down to pull up my socks and this happened. #newkitten
Today was the day! We made an appointment at a local cat shelter to adopt a kitten, and we left with Baxter! (Although he was called Bradley at the time.)
Baxter was one of a group of 25 kittens that made a 13-hour trip from North Carolina to find new homes in Ohio. He’s been ear-tipped to show that he was neutered, and he was accidentally double-microchipped (once in Carolina and once in Toledo).
He’s also slightly cross-eyed, which made him seem kind of, well… derpy? But when Connor stooped down to pet him, and he basically tried climbing up into Connor’s lap, that kind of sealed the deal.
He’s spent the evening exploring the house and getting used to his new people, and we’ve spent the evening remembering what it’s like to have a kitten in the house, and a lovey lap kitty at that.
You had a good run, baby kitty.
Seventeen is seriously geriatric in cat years, and it was only in the past few years that you really started to feel your age. You were a real trooper with your thyroid pills and acid reflux tablets. We couldn’t believe how OK you were with having medicine shoved down your throat… although treats will make almost anything tolerable. Except maybe nail trimming.
In the end, it was probably your enlarged heart that finally got the best of you. Your abdomen had filled with fluid, and you were having difficulty breathing. The vet told us you were critical, and that you could only get worse.
It’s been exactly one month since we said our final goodbyes in that little room at the vet’s office. We didn’t want to let you go. It was the right thing to do, the humane thing to do, but it was so hard.
So, so hard.
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