So, the plan was to go to some of the local shelters and take a look at the adult cats. There was never really any question – there are too many cats that need homes, and kittens… well, they’re pretty easy to find homes for.

That was the plan.

That wasn’t what actually happened. What happened was: I was offered a chance to take a look at a litter that was ready to go. And… well, the temptation proved a little too great. There is now a tiny little ball of black fluff trying to murder the curtains. She doesn’t have a name yet; I’m still getting to know her. (I’m leaning toward either Lucy or Olive, but given her ability to find all the impossible-to-clean nooks and crannies in my apartment, she seems to be campaigning for ‘Dusty.’)

It’s strange. I said I was ready for a new cat, but… I wasn’t expecting it to happen so quickly. A few days ago, this was all theoretical – I was making plans, but I didn’t have any sort of timeline in mind. All of a sudden, I’ve got a new kitten. And exciting as it is, as much fun as it is, I’m feeling kind of melancholy, too. I miss Tasha. There’s still a part of me that can’t imagine having a cat that isn’t her.

But it’s good. I feel a little better about it every day. It won’t be long before I can’t imagine not having this little one around, either.