Falling

Monday:It was one of those FAIL days. Everyone was grumpy. Our trip to the Animal Shelter was halted by vehicle problems. So we went out into the prettiest spot in the yard for some leaf time. The maples just turned gold and it seemed to make everyone happier. It lifted our spirits so we could tackle the rest of the day. Fall, we loved you on Monday.On Tuesday it was cold and rainy. It was not the pretty side of fall, yet a little Coldplay, and a trip in the Jeep to the animal shelter made our day quite sweet:Nick was home because his neck was hurting pretty bad. It has been bothering him ALL weekend. I put Isabel down for a nap and left her with Nick so I could take Anastasia to get a kitten. I had a knot in my stomach on our way there, as I felt like we could not be as fortunate to find an awesome cat after Figaro. Originally we weren't going to get another cat for fear of Figaro's fate to come to another furry feline. But Anastasia begged. She told strangers, "my cat Figaro got hit by a car. He can't come back." Really, really heartbreaking. I prayed for the right cat. Did you know St. Gertrude of Nivelles is the patron saint of cats? Really cool. Cats have a saint too.(The above picture isn't great but it gives you an idea of his size, and his compliance to Anastasia's whims. Anastasia's eye is not black, her crazy hair was in her face!)

We walked in to the Animal Shelter expecting to walk out with a little fuzzy kitten. I figured I would pick a kitten out, hand it to Anastasia for her approval and that would be that. The 5 fuzzy kittens were cute. Only 2 were boys, and I had to get a boy. We love boy cats. But one of the older cats labled "Tuna" was meowing and rubbing up against the cage for attention. I put my finger to the cage and rubbed his nose. He started licking me. He was the one. Anastasia wasn't thrilled with my pick and insisted we take home one of the tiny fuzz balls named "Jack". I thought it fair to hand her one of the tiny guys, and assess the personality a bit before taking Tuna home. When I handed her the kit she squeezed him so tight his eyes almost popped out! He was timid and way too small for the torment he was sure to get from the girls. She squeezed him tighter as I tried to pry the little guy free. Someone would take little Jack home. It wouldn't be us. Tuna had less of a chance of finding a home as he was older. So I paid my fee, and boxed him up. Anastasia got a lollipop (her very first one in fact!) and decided to name him "Ally the Cat", referring to Thomas O'Malley the alley cat from Aristocats. He has been one affectionate little furball. Bigger than Figaro, and a completely different personality... but he seems to be fitting in well with the insanity of our house! :)